


Somewhere in Time

by SerpentInRed



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-06-01
Updated: 2013-12-31
Packaged: 2017-11-06 12:43:54
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 62
Words: 345,363
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/419049
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SerpentInRed/pseuds/SerpentInRed
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sent back in time by a mysterious person and trapped in the past with a missing Dumbledore and an overbearing, charismatic Dark Lord, they had no idea how much they could dabble with time before the world they had known shattered into pieces.</p><p> </p><p>  <a href="http://s1197.photobucket.com/albums/aa429/serpent_in_red/Somewhere%20in%20Time/?action=view&current=SomewhereinTime.png"></a><br/><img/></p><p> </p><p>(Banner made by the wonderful Dream a Dream123!)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> **Disclaimer:** The Harry Potter universe was created by J.K. Rowling. All Harry Potter logos, trademarks, names, characters, and related indicia are the property of Warner Bros., Bloomsbury, J. K. Rowling, and/or their respective owners. No monetary profit is being made from this writing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **This story will not include:**
> 
> 1) fluffy Toms in any form or manner declaring his never-ending love to the lurve of his life.
> 
> 2) super-powered Hermiones out to kick everyone's arse.
> 
> 3) preaches to tell you the right and wrongs of life and sugar-coated versions of what happens in real life
> 
> 4) characters through whom I speak through
> 
> **This story will include:**
> 
> 1) evil Toms
> 
> 2) distortions in meanings behind actions due to the POV it's set from
> 
> 3) a dubious consent/non-con scene with conversations and controversies about the scene that last for around four chapters
> 
> 4) a diversity of characters that are not carbon-copies of one another
> 
> 5) characters that are NOT a representation of you and WILL NOT have the same exact moral stands as you do
> 
> ~-0-~
> 
>  **Trigger warnings** : Assume all of them and proceed with caution. There will be no warnings on top of chapters.
> 
> EDIT: Just one warning at the top of Chapter 26 to warn you about the one dubious consent/non-con scene.

The night was silent around the castle that was known by the Wizarding World as Hogwarts, save for the occasional cries from various animals. The light from candles shone through the windows of the school, flickering when someone walked between the source of brightness and the glass. As usual, the gates to the majestic building were closed to prevent strangers from entering and students from sneaking out.

Light breezes swept over the lawns, tickling the browning grass and drawing currents across the ominous lake in front of Hogwarts. The current of air rushed across the lake and over the Forbidden Forest, creating the image of a wave rippling across the dark sea of green. While the moon illuminated the grounds with a heavenly glow, secrets were being concealed by the tall trees and dark shadows of the forest.

A scream from somewhere deep within the forest rent the autumn air, silencing the nocturnal animals as they either sought out this new threat or hid from it. Even the wind seemed to stop in its motions, listening for any further disruptions to the peaceful hours of darkness.

A circle of people clad in black stood in the middle of the forest that was off-limits to students of the castle. Each face, though different in overall appearance, showed very similar expressions. The masks on their faces were made of indifference, hiding the fear beneath it.

Only two people within this group differed from the rest.

In the center of the circle, a dark-haired young man coldly held a spell over a young man with sandy blond hair. The expression on the dark-haired lad's face bordered on cruelty, unchanging even when beads of sweat broke out across the sandy blond's forehead. Agony was engraved in the latter's face. His mouth was wide open, emitting a silent shriek—he no longer had any strength to scream. After what seemed like an eternity, the curse was finally lifted from him.

"That's just an indication of what will happen the next time you show the inability to follow simple orders. Is that clear?" the dark-haired young man quietly asked the sandy blond that was currently groveling in the dirt of the forest floor.

"Y-yes, my Lord." The injured young man barely managed to nod his head because of the pain that was surging through his body.

"And that applies to you as well," the dark-haired young man said, glancing at the other people. A chorus of "Yes, my Lord" was muttered. Silence immediately followed, no one daring to talk without permission from their leader. Looking back at the man on the ground, a sneer appeared on his face, distorting the originally charming features. "Take him back to the castle."

Two people supported the injured young man, half dragging him towards the castle, while the others followed closely behind them.

The dark-haired young man watched until they had disappeared into the distance before he started to make his way back to the castle. The punishment would serve as an example for anyone who dared to neglect what he had dictated.

He was utterly pleased with what had happened tonight.

That was, before something extremely heavy fell on top of him as he was passing the lake. Despite the pain that shot through his body, he managed to hold in the scream, reducing it to a grunt.

To say that Tom Marvolo Riddle was angry would be the biggest understatement of the year.

~-0-~

October 1, 1944.

The moonlight shone through the window, competing with the light of the candles in brightness. It was a never-ending battle between the silver and the gold, much like the competition between the House of Slytherin and the House of Gryffindor within the castle walls of Hogwarts.

Most of the students were comfortably within their dorms, studying or chatting, as the time for slumber drew nearer. Others, in contrast, had more "important" things on their minds.

"Out! The lot of you! Out!" the school nurse, Madam Pomfrey, commanded as she glared at the group of people who were currently huddled around the infirmary bed. In her opinion, not only was the group nearly suffocating the injured man, they were also disrupting the peaceful climate that was necessary for patients. When they continued to hesitate, she added with a hint of exasperation, "Honestly, a few broken bones are not the end of the world. Mr. Riddle will be perfectly fine in the morning, but for now he needs rest!"

The aforementioned man, currently propped up by a few well-placed pillows, signaled with his eyes for his followers to leave.

"We'll gather as much information as possible, Tom. Don't worry," a young man with blond hair reassured him.

Tom gave a stiff nod before the group left the room, leaving their Lord to the care of the school nurse.

He narrowed his eyes as he thought about the "attackers," as his Knights had so "affectionately" dubbed them. Apparently, they were not students of the school since he knew most, if not all, of the people in Hogwarts already. Not to mention that most students did not randomly fall out of the skies.

"—sure that he wouldn't mind," a voice said as the door to the Infirmary was pushed open and a group of people entered the room. It was Headmaster Dippet, Professor Dumbledore, and the four people who had fallen on top of him. "Ah, Tom! You're still awake."

Madam Pomfrey made a noise of annoyance in the background when she saw another group barging into the room. She bit the insides of her cheeks, attempting to hold back whatever comments she had on her mind when she saw that one of the "visitors" was the Headmaster of the school. Nevertheless, that fact did not dissolve the infuriated expression on her face. In fact, she seemed even more incensed by the fact that even the figures of authority in the school were disregarding the health of the patients. In the end, she went into her office, completely irritated.

"Good evening, Professor Dippet. I would've been delighted to have drifted off to the blessed world of sleep, but unfortunately, the pains are still keeping me awake," Tom answered with a charming smile on his face. From the corner of his eyes, he noticed the exchanged glances between three of the newcomers.

"Yes, yes. I could only imagine how much it would hurt," Dippet said with a sympathizing look on his face. "Nevertheless, the four new students to the school would like to ask for your forgiveness. They were trying to escape from the war via Portkey travel, and apparently, they had not anticipated that someone would be right next to the lake."

"Is that so?" Tom questioned as his dark eyes slid over to the four people who had just offered nearly inaudible apologies and were now baring their teeth in obviously-forced smiles. Interesting. "Apologies accepted."

"There! Didn't I tell you that our Head Boy here is ever the gentleman? There was no point in being scared that he would not forgive you," Dippet bubbled on. "Now, Tom, there's no worries about schoolwork; we all know that you will catch up in no time."

"Yes, Professor Dippet. I am still worried about the Transfiguration essay that needs to be handed in on Wednesday though," Tom replied as he glanced at Dumbledore. The latter scrutinized him over the half-moon spectacles for a few seconds before he answered him.

"From your previous work, I could only assume that staying in the Hospital Wing for merely one day would not have any significant effect on your essay. However, if it would lighten your heart, you may hand in the work on Thursday."

"Thank you, Professor," Tom said inclining his head slightly as a sign of appreciation. Although Tom knew that Dumbledore was not particularly fond of him, it would do well not to get on the older wizard's bad side for the moment.

By this time, the school nurse could not stand it any longer. She stormed out of her office and glared at the group of non-patients crowded around Tom's bed with the look of a mother hen protecting her chicks.

"Enough chatting! Now would you people let Mr. Riddle rest already?" Madam Pomfrey said so angrily that Dippet looked mildly scared of her.

"Our apologies, Madam Pomfrey," Dumbledore replied. "We shall leave at once to allow Mr. Riddle and the rest of your patients to rest."

The group of six left the room, leaving Tom to think. He continued to stare at the door, as if the four newcomers were still there. Madam Pomfrey continued to bustle around the room while muttering about "the harsh curriculum of the school that burdens students even while they are hurt."

He did not believe a word they had said. It was obvious that the "Portkey accident" was just some sort of cover up story for the true reason they were there. The acting skills of the four strangers were terrible beyond belief. Any intelligent being would have noticed that there was something wrong with them.

Of course, Dippet would be daft enough to believe in any story Dumbledore promoted. The true mystery was why would Dumbledore go along with the story? Unless Dumbledore was the one behind this.

A person would have to be stupid to not realize that the Transfiguration professor harbored no good feelings for Tom. All of the other professors at Hogwarts were charmed by him since day one. Dumbledore, on the other hand, never trusted him and was always keeping an eye on him. It was as if the older wizard knew what he was secretly planning.

Dumbledore became even more meddlesome after Myrtle's death. It was particularly satisfying for Tom when he got rid of that oaf Hagrid, who had always been a favorite of the Head of Gryffindor House, even if it meant that the Slytherin had to suffer from additional scrutiny from the older wizard.

Tom smirked. He had no intentions of confessing what his true objectives were, nor did he believe that he would be punished for his evil deeds. Having four random children fall on top of him and nearly kill him would not change those facts. If that were what Dumbledore was planning, senility must be settling in on him.

Perhaps that would mean that the annoying wizard would be six feet under a lot earlier than he could have hoped for, Tom thought gleefully.

No matter. As long as the foolish Headmaster believed him, Dumbledore could not do anything to him.

His Knights would eventually find information about his attackers. If they were truly on Dumbledore's side, then he would probably have no choice but to eliminate them. If they were not, then Lord Voldemort could perhaps be the merciful man that he was, and ignore their presence.

~-0-~

A Muggle cuckoo clock hung over the door of Dumbledore's office. Piles of books and parchments were scattered around the room. Even if he wanted to organize the books, it would be impossible—the bookshelves were already overflowing with texts.

Silver instruments were set arbitrarily around the room, reflecting the moonlight and candlelight, and thus casting a hazy, dream-like glow around the room.

"I believe that I am in need of some explanation from the four of you," Dumbledore said, eying them quietly.

To say that they were strange would be an understatement. Although the weather had already turned cooler, they were wearing clothing that would have been more suitable for winter rather than autumn. The style of their clothing was exceedingly strange, though the blond's clothing looked a bit closer to what the professor was used to seeing. The other three, however ... not even the Muggle-borns wore clothing like theirs. Not only were they dressed in jumpers and jeans—which were very surprising to see on the two young women—they also wore very odd-looking boots. They appeared very much out of place and out of time.

Three of the four people looked at one another before the young lady with bushy brown hair stepped forward nervously. The other person, who stood away from the other three, looked bored and angry at the situation he was in.

"Professor Dumbledore, I—I know that it might sound unbelievable and absurd, but I hope that you would believe us," the young lady implored as she looked at Dumbledore with pleading eyes.

"Many things might be unbelievable and absurd but at the same time true," he replied. "Before we delve into details, perhaps I might have the pleasure of learning your names?"

"My name is Hermione Granger," said the young lady.

"Harry Potter."

"Ginny Weasley."

Dumbledore had to watch the last one for a period of time before he muttered reluctantly, "Draco Malfoy."

Hermione then continued, after they had finished introducing themselves, "Well … it seems that we have traveled through time and somehow landed here."

"So you are from the future?" Dumbledore asked.

"Yes," she answered.

"I see," he said. He looked at them with his signature piercing look. "How, if I might ask?"

Hermione immediately realized that Dumbledore suspected that they had time traveled through illegal measures and quickly opened her mouth to explain.

"Well, apparently, Potter here has to be the hero every day!" Draco snarled suddenly, successfully stopping Hermione from explaining anything. His grey eyes flashed angrily as he glared at his former archenemy.

"Well, apparently, ferrets don't know how to be courteous to someone who saved their lives," Harry roared right back, while Ginny, who was standing between them, covered her ears to prevent them from breaking her eardrums.

"I would've been a lot more grateful if Golden Boy hadn't stupidly pulled us into this mess!" Draco sneered, crossing his arms across his chest.

" _Me_? How is this my fault? I wasn't the one lurking around in Knockturn Alley!" Harry retorted, rolling his hands up into fists.

"Oh, wow! Someone's walking around Knockturn Alley. Why don't we capture all of the people who live there and throw them into Azkaban," Draco mocked.

"Would you two be quiet already?" Hermione hissed at them. The two boys glared at one another before turning their heads to look at opposite directions. She then turned back to look at Dumbledore, who was now looking at the group with an amused look on his face. "Sorry, Professor."

"It's quite alright," Dumbledore answered, his gaze on the time travelers considerably warmer than before. There was a short period of silence before Dumbledore asked, "Do you have any ideas about how you were transported back in time? I'm assuming that you did not do this deliberately."

"We did not do this deliberately, no," Hermione answered, shaking her head. "As Malfoy said, we followed him into Knockturn Alley …"

~-0-~

December 20, 1998

"Ron is such a child sometimes," Hermione grumbled. "Why can't he accept the fact that Ginny has grown up already? And running off to the Quidditch store just because he can't win an argument, honestly."

The cold wind blew relentlessly at them, disheveling their already-messy hair. Flurries of snow fell from the skies, as if someone was standing in the clouds and sprinkling salt down on them. Daggers of ice hung from the rims of the stores' roofs of Diagon Alley. The streets and rooftops were piled with layers of snow, creating a pure white wonderland.

Shoppers were scarce, since most people had already done their Christmas shopping before the snowstorm threatened to move in. Occasionally, a wizard or witch would bustle past them, but they could hardly tell if they recognized one another or not, since everyone was bundled up to protect themselves from the coldness that had settled over the usually busy streets.

"You'll have to get used to it, Hermione," Harry commented with a grin on his face, "since you will probably have to put up with it for the rest of your life."

Hermione sniffed and tilted her head upwards. "I never said that I would be marrying him for sure," she said nonchalantly. "I'm keeping my options open."

"We didn't say anything about getting married," Ginny said, giggling when a furious blush appeared on Hermione's face.

Harry chuckled. "There's no way I'm going to marry Ron, but I will still have to put up with him as well," he added mischievously.

"Oh be quiet, you two," Hermione huffed. She pulled her cloak closer and walked slightly ahead of the couple who were immersed in silent giggles, thoroughly annoyed. She stopped in her tracks when she caught a glimpse of familiarity. "Isn't that Malfoy?" Harry and Ginny stopped their giggles and looked where Hermione was looking.

"It's him," Harry confirmed while narrowing his eyes at the person not too far away from them. Although the young man's face was covered up, the hat on top of his head did not completely hide the telltale signs of white-blond hair. "What's he doing?"

"It's none of our business, Harry," Hermione said slowly.

Harry nodded but kept his eyes on his former nemesis, who walked swiftly into another alley. "He's going into Knockturn Alley."

"Harry," Hermione warned. She now regretted her decision in alerting them about the presence of the Slytherin.

"I know, I know," Harry said, waving a hand in an attempt to stop her from worrying. The purpose was completely defeated by his next words. "But it wouldn't do any harm if we just go see what he's doing, right?" He then hurried towards the direction of Knockturn Alley with Ginny trailing behind him before Hermione had any time to react.

She stared at him, stunned.

"Harry!" she angrily called out, following right behind him.

~-0-~

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **A/N** : Many thanks to my betas Lildaani and Noybate!


	2. Chapter 2

"Harry, let's just go back. There's no point following him," Hermione hissed, quickening her footsteps to keep up with him.

"Hermione, the last time someone told me that was when I was following the same exact person to the same exact place...and you know what happened," Harry whispered back, his steps unfaltering as he trudged across the street.

She grimaced, understanding that he was talking about the death of Dumbledore.

The threatening feeling of Knockturn Alley was greatly diminished when its buildings were buried under inches of snowfall. In fact, it looked more like a picture on a Muggle postcard. Similar to Diagon Alley, the rooftops had layers of snow and ice on top of them. Cracks and bumps on the roads were covered by ankle-deep snow while sharp icicles hung from the corners of the roofs. Windows that usually displayed gruesome products were obscured by the flurries that were increasing in intensity by the minute.

"That was because Voldemort was still around at that time," Hermione argued heatedly.

"I just have to make sure," Harry answered.

"I think you're being paranoid," she sniffed.

"Better safe than sorry." Harry grinned. Hermione rolled her eyes but followed the young man anyway.

She had thought that the rivalry between Harry and Draco would have dwindled a bit after the battle at Hogwarts, but apparently, some things did not change easily.

They came to a stop a couple of stores away from Draco, who was standing in front of Borgin and Burkes. The shop seemed to be closed at the moment, which caused an expression of annoyance to appear on the Slytherin's face.

Nevertheless, they were still a bit too far away to tell what was happening inside the store.

"Do you have your invisibility cloak with you?" Ginny whispered.

Harry nodded with a smile.

"Do you bring it with you _**everywhere**_?" Hermione questioned, very much annoyed.

"You never know when you might need it," he answered.

"Don't tell me that you've also brought the Marauder's Map with you," she said sarcastically, tapping her foot on the ground.

"Good idea! I'll remember that for next time." Harry grinned mischievously.

Hermione glared at him before sighing and shaking her head in defeat. She watched him pull out a silvery material from under his cloak and threw it over the three of them.

"When he goes in, we'll slip in behind him," Harry instructed in a low voice after they were all securely under the invisibility cloak.

They watched Draco take out a gold pocket watch and look at it.

"There are three of us," Hermione pointed out impatiently. "Pray tell how we are going to do this without any disturbance."

"Well, we'll just make it seem like the winds are a bit too strong," Harry explained. "Make sure to step where he steps though, or else we might be caught by the snow on the floor. If the door closes before you can slip through, just wait outside."

Hermione looked at him, thoroughly disgruntled as she crossed her arms across her chest. Nonetheless, she managed to control herself from making any comments.

The three of them moved closer to Draco, monitoring the blond as well as any movements within the store. They waited nearly ten minutes before someone opened the door from inside.

"Mr. Malfoy, I am pleased to see you," Borgin greeted with an oily grin before opening the door wider for Draco to enter.

The three of them quickly entered the store with him and miraculously, they did so without alarming either one of them.

The store was as gloomy as Harry remembered, although there were some changes in the objects that were being displayed. He certainly did not remember the chandelier of skulls that sat in one of the corners or the random colorful jars around the store. Light scratching noises could be heard from the jars and he could have sworn that he heard a sigh and a light laugh coming from somewhere. Before he could find the source of those peculiar noises, however, he was distracted by the interactions between Borgin and Draco.

"I trust that you have received my letter," Draco said haughtily as he walked up to the counter.

"Of course, Mr. Malfoy. It is always our greatest pleasure to serve you and your family. The item you have requested is very rare and quite valuable, so as you can imagine, we've had to look across the continent and beyond—" Borgin said before he was cut off by a wave of Draco's hand.

"Did you find it?" the blond asked.

A flash of annoyance appeared in Borgin's eyes before he remembered himself, oily smile slipping back into place. "Of course, Mr. Malfoy, but it was rather difficult and expensive—"

Draco nodded with an annoyed and bored look. "I know that already. Just tell me how much it costs," he drawled as he reached into his cloak for the money.

"I will have to give some form of payment to the person who found it for me," Borgin started to say.

"The price?" Draco raised an eyebrow.

"It's going to cost you around five hundred Galleons," Borgin finally said, which caused Draco to gawk at him.

" _ **What**_?"

"Yes, Mr. Malfoy. It does cost quite a fortune, but it was hard to find and it is the only one that has been found within the last millennium," Borgin went on.

Harry, Hermione, and Ginny shared a look with one another while he and Draco bartered. What on earth could cost five hundred Galleons?

They finally settled at four hundred Galleons, and Borgin went to the back of the store to retrieve the item. The old man's smile was very similar to that of a cat that had caught a fish.

"What do you think it is?" Harry whispered.

"It could be a number of things but I'm not really sure," Hermione whispered back.

"Who's there?" Draco called out, looking in their direction.

Hermione immediately clapped her hands over her mouth while Harry looked up alertly. Ginny looked at the other two nervously as Draco started to move towards where they were standing. Harry pointed to the side and they quietly slipped over to the right.

Unfortunately, in the process of doing so, they tripped over one another and knocked over one of the colorful jars in the room, shattering it.

Draco looked at the sight in front of him, dumbfounded. The yellowish liquid previously within the jar immediately spread across the floor, trickling into the cracks in the floor and underneath their shoes.

"Oops," Ginny murmured as she stared at the mess they had caused.

"Potter," Draco acknowledged his archenemy, after he regained his composure, "what are you doing here?"

"What are _you_ doing here?" Harry shot back.

"It was obviously something that doesn't concern you," Draco said. He narrowed his eyes at them before his eyes landed on the invisibility cloak that was in Harry's hands now. "You were following me, weren't you?"

"Why would we be following you?" Harry asked as Ginny's face turned as red as her hair.

A sharp crack of icicles breaking off the roof and clattering to the ground momentarily drew their attention to the window. The storm was picking up momentum. Windows rattled noisily in their frames as the strengthening winds buffeted the store. The decrepit building moaned and creaked under the force of the gale, causing the four young adults to wonder if the store was about to collapse. A cold draft forced its way through cracks in the structure and under the quartet's clothing, sending shivers to crawl down their spines.

"If you weren't following me, why would you have that invisibility cloak of yours?" Draco questioned, glaring at the three Gryffindors standing in front of him.

"It's my cloak; I can wear it anytime I want," Harry said. "And if you weren't doing something suspicious, why would you be concerned about someone following you?"

"I am irritated because the Boy Who Lived To Annoy Others doesn't know the meaning of 'respect' or 'privacy'!" Draco snarled.

"I would've respected a person's privacy if that person wasn't lurking around dodgy places like Knockturn Alley!" Harry retorted.

"Perhaps you should learn to keep out of other people's business and earn more money to support your girlfriend's family. From the look of it, she's going to be giving birth to more children than you can afford," Draco said scathingly.

"The more the better. At least she would help bring decent people to the world instead of filling up Azkaban with Death Eaters or people who believe in the pure-blood nonsense," Harry snapped.

Draco immediately whipped out his wand.

"Keep your mouth shut about my father, Potter," he said, knowing who Harry was referring to, "or I will curse your arse off, life debt or not."

"Be my guest, Malfoy. I would like to see the likes of you try and hex me," Harry replied as he, too, pulled out his wand.

" _Expelliarmus_ ," Draco threw at Harry.

The latter dodged to the side and the spell hit another jar, blasting it into pieces and releasing the whitish-grey liquid. It joined the pool of yellow on the floor. The two different liquids mixed with one another unusually fast, resulting in a light purple color.

" _Stupefy_ ," Harry cursed right back.

Draco, too, dodged the spell and the spell hit another jar that was against the wall, cracking it in the middle and allowing the substance inside to dribble down to the floor.

"Harry, _**no**_!" hissed Hermione, all the while glancing at the direction where Borgin might appear any second.

However, Harry was not hearing what she was saying; his concentration was firmly on his archenemy from school as their spells and curses progressively became more aggressive and harmful.

If Ginny and Hermione had not been concentrating on the ongoing duel between the two wizards, they might have noticed the liquid on the floor rapidly turned into a orangey-red color when the contents mixed with one another. Nevertheless, the details went unnoticed as the two witches, with worried expressions etched on their faces, watched the dueling young men.

The two young men continued to throw spells at one another while objects were destroyed by curses that failed to hit their targets. The commotion finally caused Borgin to rush out.

"Stop, stop! What are you two doing to my store!" he yelled, fury written all over his face.

The two rivals stopped their hexing but glowered at one another, panting while Borgin ranted about the four of them causing havoc. Nobody noticed the liquid on the floor casting an eerie light that alternated between yellow, blue, and green, or the soft murmur that came from outside of the store.

"Now clean up the mess while I calculate the damages! Oh, you four are going to pay. Destroying my property and acting like immature children …"

He then left the four of them to clean up the room while he went to the back room to look up the costs for the items destroyed.

Despite the anger, the four of them could not help but feel that the man was also quite pleased with a chance to charge them more than the legitimate price and make an undeserved profit.

Hermione opened and closed her mouth a couple of times, debating if she should go with the "I told you so" rant brewing up in her mind.

"Are you two going to keep looking at each other or are you going to help? Ginny and I are not responsible for the mess. If you're going to make us clean up everything, I will have to hex the both of you," she finally settled on as she pulled out her wand.

"Do you hear that?" Ginny suddenly frowned.

"What?" Hermione asked, turning her head to look at her. Harry and Draco lowered their wands and looked at the redhead as well.

"You don't hear it?" Ginny questioned. The other three tried to listen to what she had heard.

"— _uit sali tentu vanis palagu_ —"

The four of them simultaneously looked for the source of the voice and found that it was coming from the window of the store. By this time, the snowflakes had changed to miniature meteors of ice. It pelted against the window, making the sounds of beads being dropped on the floor. The snow obscured any objects that stood outside of the store – all they saw was white.

The liquid on the floor started to change colors at a faster speed as the chanting quickened.

"What – what's happening?" Harry questioned, staring nervously at the liquid on the floor.

"Let's get out of here," Hermione suggested shakily.

She tried to move towards the backroom where Borgin was, but was horrified to find that she could not move her feet. They seemed to be held in place by the mixture on the floor.

"I can't move," Draco whispered hoarsely.

"Borgin!" Harry roared. By this time, the contents had altered into a faint shade of pink and was glowing slightly.

"— _nes jaku pituva shun tupala_ —"

"Borgin!" Draco bellowed. Suddenly, all four of them crashed to the floor, as if gravity itself had suddenly increased tenfold.

"What's happening?" Ginny asked weakly.

The fluid turned to a sinister red. All the while, the chanting had not ceased. Ginny looked at Harry and reached out to him. He took her hand and squeezed it lightly as if telling her not to worry.

A blinding white light filled the room when the chanting stopped. When the glow disappeared, the contents and the four people previously in the room were no longer there.

They were not there to witness the storm, as it raged on. They were not there to hear the muffled laughter that penetrated the windows of Borgin and Burkes.

They were not there to see a figure clad in black disappear into the curtains of snow.

~-0-~

October, 1944.

A frown appeared on Dumbledore's face. He believed in their story, but there were still many unanswered questions.

"Would you happen to have any ideas about the identity of the person who might have sent you to this time period?" he asked.

Hermione shook her head. "Voldemort—"

Draco noticeably winced.

"—had been vanquished by Harry already … in our time, that is," Hermione continued, "and most of the Death Eaters who were obsessive about him had been thrown into Azkaban already. I don't know who would have done this."

"Voldemort? Death Eaters?" Dumbledore questioned.

"Tom Riddle, sir. Tom Riddle and his followers," Harry answered quickly.

" _ **Tom Riddle**_?" Draco squeaked from the side.

Harry suppressed a laugh when he heard Draco's yelp. Attempting to keep a straight face, he simply nodded.

"You mean that that—that _**bloke**_ that we—we saw before—that we fell _**on top of**_ —will be the future _**Dark Lord**_?"

"Yes, Malfoy," Hermione answered, throwing a glare at him to stop talking. Unfortunately, the news was a bit of a shock for the Slytherin.

"No—no—wait, no—he—he looked _**normal**_! You're—you're _**kidding**_ , no. He's not—he _**can't be**_ the Dark Lord." Draco shook his head.

"Unfortunately, he is," Harry sighed, rubbing the bridge of his nose.

Draco looked as if he were about to have a heart attack.

"No … no … you're kidding … So someone _**threw us back in time**_ so we could witness how the Dark Lord _**became**_ the Dark Lord? And we _**fell**_ on top of the Dark Lord?" he screeched.

It appeared that the previous (or in this case, future) events with Voldemort had left wounds in his brain. The other four people in the room looked at him as he went into panic.

"Do you know what the liquid on the floor might have been?" Dumbledore asked after a while.

The four of them had mutually agreed that trying to calm Draco down would be a lost cause.

"No, sir," Hermione answered with a shake of her head.

A small frown appeared on Dumbledore's forehead as he looked outside one of the windows above his bookshelves. After a couple of minutes, he turned back to the four young adults in front of him. All four of them were looking at him hopefully.

"It will be quite difficult to send you back to your time," he said gently.

His words somehow worked their way into Draco's frenzied mind, and his mouth dropped open while a look of panic appeared on Hermione's face.

Something that even Dumbledore could not solve?

"But sir—" Hermione bit her lower lip, not knowing what to say.

Dumbledore looked at the four of them for another few minutes before he opened his mouth again.

"I would suggest that the four of you continue to stay here while I research into what method of time travel could've been used on you," he recommended. "I would also suggest that the four of you stay right here in Hogwarts. I suppose you are Hogwarts students?"

"We were supposed to be, but during our last year we sort of went on a mission that you handed to us—well, to Harry, actually," Hermione explained.

Dumbledore nodded. "I see. Speak no more, my dear. I do not wish to change the future that you know," he said. "I would, however, request that the four of you consider finishing your last year here."

At the prospect of repeating a school year, Draco opened his mouth to protest, but the other four people in the room simply ignored him.

"Yes, Professor," Hermione answered excitedly.

Harry almost rolled his eyes at her outward display of joy at hearing the words "schoolwork" and "homework."

"I will have someone send you your books and other things you will need. What Houses were you in?"

"We were Gryffindors," Hermione replied. She then gestured at Draco. "He was in Slytherin."

"I will have things sent up to your rooms then," Dumbledore said. "I trust you remember where your dormitories are?"

"Yes, Professor," the three of them chorused.

Dumbledore turned his gaze on Draco, who was glaring furiously at them. "Mr. Malfoy, I understand that you've had some conflict with Mr. Potter, Miss Granger, and Miss Weasley. I must, however, advise you to refrain from it while you are here, since it would complicate things and perhaps put you in danger. You might not want to repeat a school year or continue your education here, but seeing that we currently do not have a way to send you back home, I suggest that you stay here as a seventh year."

A look of internal struggling appeared on Draco's face, as if he were trying to decide whether to start yelling at all of them or to go along with what they suggested. In the end, he grudgingly answered, "Yes, Professor."

"I believe that a change of names will be necessary since Weasley, Potter, and Malfoy are prominent names in the Wizarding World," Dumbledore said, clapping his hands together.

Harry and Ginny looked at one another as Draco glared at the wall, still irritated by the whole situation.

"I could be Weatherby," Ginny spoke up as the corners of her lips twitched.

"I'll be Evans then," Harry decided.

Dumbledore looked at Draco. The latter sighed.

"Malloy," he replied grumpily.

"I will have to ask you to come to this room again tomorrow morning at seven since I will need to administer tests to see what classes to put you in," Dumbledore said. The four of them nodded. "Very well then. You may return to your dorms."

~-0-~


	3. Chapter 3

"That was easy," Hermione remarked cheerily; Harry, however, did not share her happiness. Draco, on the other hand, had decided to ignore their presence altogether since last night. "I do hope that I've done well on those tests though."

They had just finished taking the tests administered by Dumbledore and were now walking towards their respective common rooms.

Rays of light from the morning sun were slowly pouring in through the windows of the hallways. Some of the occupants in the portraits could be seen stretching and yawning as they, too, awoke with the call of dawn. Not many students were awake at this time of day, but they still caught a glimpse of one or two students near the library.

"You're Hermione Granger. Of course you did well," Ginny reassured her.

"I'm just worried that perhaps some of the theories might have changed throughout the years. What if they're right during our time but wrong in this time?" Hermione asked as she furrowed her eyebrows.

"You worry way too much, Hermione," Harry commented. "Relax. I'm sure you will get into every single class Hogwarts has to offer."

Ginny and he promptly started to laugh.

"Hopefully, not Divination," Hermione replied sarcastically, rolling her eyes. "Beware the crossing of Mars and Venus!" she cried with an exaggerated performance of Trelawney, which caused Harry and Ginny to laugh even more.

Hermione laughed along with them until she caught a glimpse of Draco from the corner of her eyes. For some reason, despite the taunts and mean things he had done to her throughout the years at Hogwarts, she felt sorry for him. She had her friends with her, but he was all alone.

"Malfoy."

He turned towards them and looked at her questioningly. She bit her lower lip, not quite knowing how she should say her next words. Nevertheless, she gathered up her courage and looked him straight in the eye.

"I know that we've had many conflicts in the past years, but we're in a completely different time period, and no one here knows who we are or what we've been through. I'd like to call a truce, even a temporary one, until we return to our time," Hermione suggested.

Draco scowled and looked away from the three of them.

"I don't need your help," he mumbled.

Ginny had long stopped laughing and was watching their interaction. Harry narrowed his eyes at Draco. Hermione had a feeling that he was about to pull out his wand and hex the Slytherin.

"Malfoy—" she started to say.

He turned around and looked at them angrily.

"I said I don't need your help," he spat out. "I ended up here because of you three. And now you're trying to mend everything by pretending to be nice? It doesn't work like that—"

"How dare you accuse her of doing such things?" Harry bellowed, fury apparent on his face. "Hermione was just worried because YOU will be in the same House as Rid—"

Hermione tugged on Harry's robe.

"Harry," she warned.

Harry gave her a reassuring look before glaring at Draco.

"Fine! Be a stubborn git. We won't be the one at the end of his wand if you do something he doesn't like," Harry hissed before pulling Hermione and Ginny away towards Gryffindor tower, leaving Draco staring after them.

~-0-~

"Dear Merlin! Tom, are you alright?" Harry, Hermione, and Ginny heard a female's voice screech as they sat at the Gryffindor table, eating their breakfast.

Curious about the source of noise, they turned around and watched a young woman rush over to the Slytherin table. Her blond hair fell freely around her shoulders, framing her heart-shaped face. Her eyes were wide with concern as she approached Tom. In the time travelers' opinions, she looked like a prettier version of Pansy Parkinson.

"Even if I were alright, I'd be sick now," Ginny whispered, watching in disgust as the young woman nearly flung herself at Tom.

Harry and Hermione snorted.

"Just a few minor injuries, Iris. Thank you for your concern," Tom answered with a smile that caused most of the girls near him to swoon.

"Those girls are overreacting a bit, aren't they?" Harry asked, confused thoroughly.

He had seen girls swarm behind Viktor Krum back in their fourth year, but this was the first time he had seen them react to this extent. The female students were not the only ones who were attracted to the young Voldemort. His charm seemed to be working on the professors, too.

"I guess," Ginny mumbled as she nearly buried her face into her plate.

Harry raised an eyebrow at her reaction and turned his head to look at Hermione for an answer. She pointedly looked to the side while she hummed a song to herself. The two young witches understood quite well that Tom Riddle was a nutcase who needed psychological help. Nevertheless, to them, there was no point trying to deny that he was breathtakingly handsome.

"Hello!" a voice cut in, breaking the uncomfortable silence between the trio.

They looked up to find a tall, gangly young man with bright red hair and freckles standing over them. He was wearing the black robes that all students at Hogwarts wore. The crest on his robes denoted the fact that he was also a Gryffindor.

"Hi," the three of them replied.

"My name is Gareth Weasley," the young man said, flashing a smile at them. "Haven't seen you lot before! I'm guessing you're the new transfer students I heard about last night in the Gryffindor common room. Welcome to Hogwarts! You're in Gryffindor, aren't you, since you're sitting at our table?"

"Yes, we are in Gryffindor," Hermione smiled warmly at the rather chatty young man.

"Wonderful! May I have the pleasure of learning your names?"

The three then introduced themselves to Gareth.

He beamed at them after he learned their names and slipped into the seat beside Hermione. "Glad to make your acquaintance. I hope we'll finally win the House Cup with new people in Gryffindor."

"Finally?" Ginny asked.

"Well, you see, for the past few years, the House Cup had always been won by the Slytherins. I mean, how could they lose with Tom Riddle in their House? He's bloody brilliant. I've never seen anyone as intelligent as he is … well, except for maybe Dumbledore. All of the professors adore him for his talent in magic," Gareth answered with a sigh as he looked over at the Slytherin table.

Harry looked over at Tom darkly. However, Gareth's next words almost caused the three to fall out of their chairs.

"Nice bloke though. Very kind and helpful to people who ask for his help."

"Are you sure we're talking about the same person?" Harry asked, feeling slightly lightheaded from Gareth's opinion of the future Dark Lord.

Gareth looked at him curiously while he scooped some eggs onto his plate.

"Have you met him already? How peculiar! Most people who have had the chance to talk to him find him quite charming and kind," he remarked. "Perhaps he was in a bad mood when you met him?"

"Well, yes, we met him already. He seemed like a nice person," Hermione replied with a forced smile.

She figured that they would have to act as if they were newcomers if they did not want people becoming suspicious of them. Therefore, they should not act as if they knew all of the dark little secrets Tom Riddle had up his sleeves.

"Oh, you have?" Gareth asked, mildly surprised. "How did you meet him?"

"Well…we sort of fell on top of him—"

Gareth's eyes widened.

"—when we traveled to Hogwarts with a Portkey," Hermione finished.

"Wow. Falling right on top of our Head Boy on the first day you're here?" he asked, astonished. His expression clearly showed an ongoing conflict between admiration and shock.

"It was by accident," she explained quickly.

"Nevertheless, wow," Gareth breathed out.

"Wow what?" asked another voice.

They looked up and found a good-looking Gryffindor with messy black hair and dark brown eyes. There was no doubt about whose ancestor they were meeting. Harry had to prevent himself from jumping out of his seat and becoming overly enthusiastic about meeting the dark-haired young man.

"These four fell right on top of Tom the first day they got here," Gareth answered in awe.

The Gryffindor with the messy black hair looked at them with widened eyes. "Better run for cover when you see Riddle's admirers nearing you. You might be chopped up into pieces and fed to the Giant Squid," he laughed.

Hermione suddenly had the uncomfortable feeling that he was not really joking. Ginny grimaced as these words brought a very vivid image to her mind.

"By the way, the name's Joseph. Joseph Potter."

"Nice to meet you," Hermione smiled after they had exchanged names.

"Do you know what classes you will be taking yet?" Joseph asked as he sat down next to Gareth and started to pile his plate with food.

"Not yet. We just took the tests this morning, but Dumbledore did promise that we would get the results during breakfast," Hermione replied.

At the mention of this, she craned her neck to look at the staff's table. She was delighted to see Dumbledore heading towards their table.

"Good morning, Miss Granger, Mr. Evans, Miss Weatherby," he greeted them kindly. He looked over at the other two boys. "And good morning to you, Mr. Potter, Mr. Weasley."

"Good morning, Professor," the five of them chorused.

Dumbledore then took out a couple of pieces of parchment.

"These are your schedules," he said. "If you have any questions concerning them, you may meet with me in between classes."

"Thank you, Professor," Hermione chirped happily after she had finished looking at her schedule.

Dumbledore was about to turn away from them when Harry called out, "Professor!"

The older wizard looked at him questioningly.

Harry pointed at Hermione's schedule, "How is it possible for anyone to go through so many classes?"

Hermione glared at him while Ginny stifled a laugh. Dumbledore chuckled before heading back to the staff's table.

"Blimey. She has nearly as many classes as our Head Boy," Gareth commented as he peered at her schedule.

"Nearly?" Ginny asked, raising an eyebrow.

Gareth nodded. "He just has one or two classes more than she does. That's all," he explained. Harry, Ginny, and Hermione looked at one another with their jaws slightly opened.

"How is that possible? Does he ever sleep or eat?" Hermione asked, very much annoyed with a certain Heir of Slytherin at the moment.

"Oh, he does, but he hardly needs to go through his work. I've never seen him studying or anything of the sort. I guess it comes naturally to him," Joseph piped up.

Hermione stabbed her fork at the ham on her plate rather harshly in reaction.

"How do you know so much about him?" Harry asked, carefully watching the expressions of the young man who might very well be his ancestor.

He was seriously hoping that Joseph was not one of Voldemort's followers. If he were, Harry would have to consider drowning himself in the lake.

"Oh, everyone knows Riddle's time schedule," Joseph answered casually. "Just follow the crowd of girls."

"Now that's an exaggeration," Harry laughed.

"You haven't been here long enough, Harry. You do not know how most of the girls in the school react when he's around. The normal responses include, but are not limited to: giggle, giggle some more, and faint," he commented. The three time travelers laughed quietly before he leaned closer to them and whispered, "Many girls in our House secretly admire him as well."

He smirked suggestively at the two witches.

"As long as you're not one of them," Ginny sniggered in response.

Joseph glared at her.

"Oh yes, I'd love to be in the arms of Tom," Joseph replied in a high-pitched voice, batting his eyelashes at the trio. "Tom this, Tom that. Tom, Tom, Tom."

Harry, Hermione, and Ginny laughed.

"You're not too fond of him, are you?" Harry observed.

"No, he's not," Gareth spoke up. "He's just jealous that Riddle has all the girls at his beck and call."

Joseph looked mortified. "Me? Jealous? You've got to be kidding me, mate," he said in a dramatic voice. "I am Joseph Potter. Do I need to lower myself to the standards of a jealous prat? I think not."

The three time travelers laughed again.

"I just don't trust him, that's all," Joseph explained.

"Don't trust him?" Harry questioned.

Joseph nodded. "He's a bit secretive, if you ask me," he replied.

Gareth rolled his eyes. "You think that everyone has some sort of conspiracy," he commented. "The professors all love him so there can't possibly be something wrong with him."

"Dumbledore doesn't," Joseph pointed out. "Although Dumbledore doesn't say it out loud, it's obvious that he doesn't favor Riddle over other students like other professors do."

"Well, he's in Slytherin. So he must have some Slytherin characteristics," Gareth reasoned, shrugging his shoulders.

Harry and Ginny exchanged a look with one another. For some reason, Gareth seemed to be quite fond of Tom.

"Oh well. Nothing that should concern us," Joseph said. He then grinned at the trio. "So, should we show you around the castle lest you get lost?"

"No—" Harry started to say but was quickly stopped by Hermione pinching him hard on his thigh.

He stuffed a fist into his mouth to prevent himself from squeaking in pain.

The two young men looked at him weirdly while Hermione smiled at them apologetically.

"He has had a stomachache since last night and he really wanted to retire to the dormitories to rest. However, we should learn how to get around the school or we might get lost," she lied.

An expression of understanding appeared on the two young wizards' faces.

"It's no problem. We could always show you tomorrow," Joseph said with a shrug.

Harry rubbed his thigh with one hand while shaking the other at Joseph.

"I'm fine, I'm fine," Harry managed to make out through gritted teeth as he shot a look of annoyance at Hermione. "Let's go."

They got up and walked towards the doors of the Great Hall.

"Thanks, Hermione. Mind letting me know beforehand the next time you're going decorate me with bruises?" Harry hissed at her.

"It's our first day here. We're not supposed to know where we are going," Hermione whispered back.

"Oh yeah," Harry answered, a look of realization dawning on his face.

Hermione sighed. This was going to be one long trip.

"Just a few simple facts to get you started." Gareth smiled at them. "As you know, the Headmaster is Professor Dippet. An old goat, if you ask me." The time travelers laughed at his description. "Our Head of House is Professor Dumbledore, who's also the Transfiguration professor."

"The wisest professor in Hogwarts, in my opinion," Joseph cut in.

"Professor Slughorn's the Head of Slytherin House and the Potions Master," Gareth continued.

"According to my parents, very different from the previous Heads of Slytherin," Joseph added. "He's quite fair in many aspects."

"He does have the tendency to favor students who have a well-known background or show promising talents."

"He, however, doesn't favor Slytherins over students from other Houses, which is a good thing," Joseph grimaced. "Riddle already has most of the professors wrapped around his fingers."

"As if Tom's not his favorite student anyway, Joseph." Gareth rolled his eyes.

"Good point," Joseph said with a sigh.

"Anyway, the Charms professor and Head of Ravenclaw is Professor Fireswish. He's quite a jolly old man," Gareth continued.

"But that doesn't stop him from having a bad temper. He usually doesn't mind when we joke around but if you go overboard with it, you might land yourself with detentions for weeks."

"Professor Ferns teaches Herbology and is the Head of Hufflepuff," Gareth said. "She's very gentle and kind."

"And boring." Joseph nodded. "If we weren't standing when we take Herbology classes, there would probably be as many sleeping students as the History of Magic classes, which are taught by Professor Binns."

"The dullest class in the school," Gareth commented. "And, he never remembers your names."

"Prepare your pillows, but be sure to cast a charm over it to look like a textbook," Gareth suggested.

"Professor Merrythought's Defense Against the Dark Arts classes are quite interesting."

"Her classes are almost as much fun as Professor Dumbledore's."

"You're always learning, and it pains me to say this, but she has even more patience than Professor Dumbledore," Joseph admitted rather reluctantly.

The trio smiled at one another. The way Joseph and Gareth talked reminded them strongly of the Weasley twins.

"The Head Girl is Augusta Rookwood," Joseph sighed after they have finished introducing the professors of Hogwarts. "Although she's a Gryffindor, it doesn't stop her from being a nasty piece of work."

"What do you mean by that?" Ginny questioned, furrowing her eyebrows.

"Her twin brother, Augustus, is in Slytherin," Gareth explained. "She comes from a family of purebloods, so sometimes—"

"All the time, Weasley," Joseph corrected.

"—she feels that she's slightly superior to others," Gareth finished.

" _ **Very**_ superior," Joseph corrected again.

Harry and Hermione glanced worriedly at Ginny, who had a murderous look on her face. They could not blame her since Fred had been killed by Augustus Rookwood.

"And the Head Boy is Tom Riddle, from Slytherin House. He's the only decent Slytherin I know of," Gareth commented.

The time travelers had to stop themselves from snorting.

"Even though I don't really like him, I do have to admit that he's kinder to the Gryffindors than the other Slytherins," Joseph confessed. "At least he tries to be fair when it comes to docking points. The other Slytherins…wait till you're here for a longer period of time. It's basically war between the two Houses."

"What about the other two Houses?" Hermione asked. "Surely they're not completely unaware about the inter-House rivalry."

"If you really want to draw a line between friends and foes, the Hufflepuffs would most likely help us and the Ravenclaws would probably side with the Slytherins," Gareth made a face of disgust. "However, normally, both of them do attempt to remain neutral."

"As neutral as they can be," Joseph huffed.

The trio looked at one another again while Joseph and Gareth continued to chatter on.

Although they had no idea what would happen in the following days, there was one thing that they were sure about—it would be nowhere near "boring."

~-0-~

Hermione tapped her quill on the table as she waited for Charms class to begin. Ginny was taking sixth-year classes instead of seventh-year classes for some reason that only Dumbledore would know. Harry, Gareth, and Joseph were sitting beside her, heatedly discussing the Quidditch tryouts that were about to begin. A brunette and a blonde sat in the front of the class, talking about Merlin-knows-what. Other than that, there was no one else in the class.

That was, until Tom Riddle walked into the classroom. The chatter between the girls at the front of the class stopped as they stared at the young man. The three boys beside her did not notice the presence of an additional person in the room.

"Hi, Tom," the girls in the front called out flirtatiously.

"Good morning," he greeted them with a smile that made the girls giggle.

Hermione rolled her eyes, thinking to herself that this year would definitely be worse than the year with Krum at Hogwarts. Whenever Krum had entered the library, the girls would swarm in with him. This had caused many problems for Hermione since it was quite hard to study with the constant squealing and chattering of the girls.

She could not help but stare when Tom chose the seat next to her. The girls in the front immediately turned around to glare at her. The witch felt slightly annoyed since she was not the one who asked him to sit next to her.

 _Good heavens, if you wanted him to sit next to you, ask before he chose it himself. Not that the "great Lord Voldemort" takes instructions from "mere human beings" like the rest of us_ , Hermione thought, suppressing the urge to roll her eyes.

The "great Lord Voldemort" gave her a quick nod before sitting down.

"Why are you sitting here?" Hermione asked without thinking.

It was after the words left her mouth that she realized how dumb it must have sounded. There weren't any designated seats for students at Hogwarts after all.

Tom looked at her, surprise written on his face.

 _The perfect picture of innocence_.

Had she not known about the things he would do in the future, she would have believed that he was as innocent as an angel, too. No one could ever believe that a lad like him would commit something evil, let alone kill thousands.

Hermione grimaced to herself. If only he were not an evil wizard in the making, then she could do what every other girl in Hogwarts was doing at the moment: fancy him without feeling guilty about it.

"He usually sits there, Hermione," Gareth explained. He scratched the back of his head. "Well, actually, he usually sits in your seat but since you took his seat …"

Hermione looked at him.

"Oh," she answered. She watched as Tom proceeded to place his ink and parchments on the table neatly. She then turned back to Gareth and whispered, "Are you best friends with him or something?"

Gareth shook his head.

"Not really. I just know him because he sort of helped me out when we were in our third year," he explained. He smiled sheepishly. "I was telling Joseph I'd forgotten to do an essay for Potions that was due the next day. He couldn't help me, though, since he's rubbish in that subject. Tom overheard us talking about it and offered to help me. He stayed up nearly the whole night helping me do the research and checking my work for me."

"Oh," was all Hermione could manage to say. She stole a glance at Tom, who was reading through the notes from the previous class.

She frowned before turning back to Gareth, who was immersed in another Quidditch conversation with Joseph. Harry exchanged a look with her before he rejoined Joseph and Gareth's discussion. Hermione knew exactly what he was thinking at the moment; it was the same thing she was wondering about, too.

If Gareth Weasley was indeed an ancestor of the Weasleys, she knew he would be written down as a blood traitor in Voldemort's book. The Weasleys were definitely not in possession of power or wealth. Why was Tom being so nice to him then? It did not seem logical to her or Harry at all.

Looking back at Tom, she almost jumped out of her seat when she noticed that he was watching her. He smiled at her before turning his gaze back to the notes as if nothing had happened.

Something _**had**_ happened. Hermione was not one who easily overlooked details.

The calculating glint in Tom Marvolo Riddle's eyes sent a cold shiver down her spine.

And she did not like that feeling at all.

~-0-~

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **A/N** : Many thanks to my betas Lildaani, Noybate, Hajnalmadar, and matterhorn!


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **A/N** : Many thanks to my betas, Lildaani, Noybate, Hajnalmadar, and matterhorn, and my wonderful reviewers!

**Chapter 4**

"This is ridiculous," Hermione groaned, burying her face in her hands. She let the usual chatter and activity of the Gryffindor common room wash over her for a moment before continuing in a low voice, "It was supposed to be over. We're not supposed to go through Vol... You-Know-Who again."

They had decided that using the name "Voldemort" would be too dangerous since only his Knights were supposed to know that name. Additionally, they only had minimal knowledge in regards to who sided with the future Dark Lord and who did not.

Ginny shot a worried look at her fiancé, obviously disturbed by the information that the darkest wizard of their time had apparently taken a special interest in them.

"But... you said he was just looking at us, right? That doesn't mean he'll do anything to us, does it?" she asked, sounding almost timid.

"Wouldn't it be kind of ironic if it was 'destined' for me to vanquish a guy and then be sent back in time just to be killed by the same guy?" Harry commented with a humorless laugh.

"That's not funny, Harry," Ginny said with a shudder.

Harry placed his hand on his fiancée's shoulder affectionately.

"I'm sorry," he apologized softly.

Ginny shook her head, indicating that she was okay.

"I think we should stay low profile throughout the year," Hermione suggested, furrowing her eyebrows in thought. "Thankfully, they didn't make a big deal about foreign students coming to Hogwarts, although I do suspect that Dumbledore was the one who talked Dippet out of it. That's the last thing we'd want. In regards to going home, Dumbledore should find something within a year. I mean, how hard could it be? It's Dumbledore we're talking about."

"That's if we actually live long enough to return home, Hermione," Harry said in a low voice. "You have no idea how much damage he could do at this age. Not to mention that that _thing_ is still alive."

The witch understood that he was talking about the Basilisk. She sighed dejectedly. "Good thing there were no records of You-Know-Who trying to let his pet out for a slither after what happened in last year."

As Harry nodded, Hermione noticed a young woman with shoulder-length brown hair and sharp eyes watching them from across the room. A cold smile appeared on the young woman's face before she looking away.

"Who is that?" Hermione questioned, her eyes still on the Gryffindor.

Harry squinted towards the direction the witch was looking.

"Isn't that Augusta Rookwood?" he asked. "Joseph pointed her out to me today, during Transfiguration class." He then said in a lower voice, "By the way, isn't Neville's grandmother's name Augusta?"

Hermione and Ginny stared at him.

"So Neville is related to the Rookwoods?" Ginny hissed.

"I don't know. Somewhere in the back of my mind, I remember that Neville's grandmother's name is Augusta," Harry replied. "I've never asked him about her maiden name. I mean, it's really none of my business anyway."

The three of them looked back at the Head Girl, who was now talking animatedly with other Gryffindor seventh-years grouped around her.

"She doesn't seem really friendly," Ginny commented softly.

"She doesn't," Harry agreed. He laughed. "She's not really friendly when she's older either."

The two witches laughed at his assessment. After they stopped laughing, they sat quietly for a while, looking at the fireplace where the logs were burning merrily. The trio never quite understood why the house elves started the fire so early. The weather was cool but not really freezing cold.

"I think we should go check up on Mal-Malloy one of these days," Hermione suggested, breaking the silence. "I'm more worried about him than about us. At least we have the comfort of being in a completely different dorm. He has to share a dorm with You-Know-Who's close friends."

"Are you sure?" Ginny asked as she leaned back in the armchair she was sitting in. "He did tell us to leave him alone."

"I know," Hermione answered, "but I still don't wish harm to come to him. I'm just hoping that he hasn't let anything slip."

Ginny sighed and shrugged. "Well, if you insist on it."

"Sort of makes me wish that I could look inside You-Know-Who's brain again," Harry joked as they walked towards the stairs, attempting to make the situation more lighthearted.

Unfortunately, the two young ladies did not quite appreciate it and glared at him instead.

~-0-~

They tried to find an opportunity to speak with Draco, but this had proven impossible. They always felt that Tom was silently keeping an eye on them—and it definitely did not help that he was in every single one of their classes. In addition to this, Draco still avoided them like the plague, refusing to give them a chance to corner him by himself.

"I think we should just forget about it, Hermione," Harry suggested as they walked to their Potions class. "I mean, Malloy did tell you to leave him alone."

The young witch looked at him disapprovingly.

"Harry, I've told you already. If he lets something slip, we're all in deep trouble," she explained. In a lower voice, she continued, "We didn't come back with a Time Turner but I'm sure the regular laws of time traveling apply here as well. We're not supposed to change the future."

"But aren't we changing the future already?" Harry whispered. "You-Know-Who sees me now and in the future. Won't he know that Harry Potter is Harry Evans?"

"He will probably think you're Harry Potter's ancestor or something," she answered with a frown.

"I thought he was supposed to be smart," Harry remarked, raising an eyebrow.

"Supposedly," Hermione agreed, "but it's fifty years from now. He'll probably forget about you. Besides, how was he supposed to know that some pillock would grow up to look like his Hogwarts classmate?"

Harry snorted.

"And didn't you mention that he said himself that you looked somewhat like him? He probably thinks that it's common for random people to look similar or something. As long as we avoid attracting attention to us, he shouldn't have the chance to actually know you."

"You're forgetting that trouble often comes and finds me," he sighed, "especially when he's involved."

Hermione nodded grimly in response, glancing up the corridor to see how close they were to their classroom. Her eyes widened in dismay as she stopped abruptly, causing Harry to look at her, confused.

"Ginny!" she called out, bursting into motion and quickly leaving her companion behind.

For a moment, Harry had no idea what was going on, his first thought being of Death Eaters attacking the students. When he saw what had caused his friend's reaction, he hurried after her in alarm.

Ginny was standing in front of the Potions classroom, but she was not alone. A certain dark-haired young man was standing right next to her. A relieved look appeared on her face when she saw Hermione.

Tom looked at the two of them with mild interest. "Good afternoon, Miss Granger," he greeted her with a pleasant smile. "I believe that's what I've heard the professors refer to you as."

"Good day to you as well, Mr. Riddle," Hermione responded as she stood slightly in front of Ginny.

Although Ginny had never shown any discomfort in front of other people, she confessed to Hermione one day that she was still unsettled by the events during her first year at Hogwarts. Images of how Tom charmed and manipulated her were still fresh in her memory.

"Please, do call me Tom and not Mr. Riddle," he insisted.

"Oh, alright, Tom," Hermione replied. She hoped that the smile that she had plastered on her face looked as genuine as the one he had on his face. "Ginny should run along to class or she might be late."

She looked at the redhead who was nodding quickly.

"Forgive me for holding you back, Ginny. I sincerely hope that we can finish our conversation some other time," Tom said, turning back to Ginny.

"Conversation?" Harry asked, placing a hand protectively around her waist.

Tom's eyes flickered to Harry's hands before looking straight into his eyes.

"Just a casual conversation, Mr. Evans," he answered. "As the Head Boy, I do hope that you'll find yourself right at home at Hogwarts."

"Just like you, I assume," Harry snapped before Hermione could stop him.

An uneasy silence fell over the group. Hermione glanced uneasily at Tom, who was looking at Harry impassively. The latter was staring at the floor intently and shuffling his feet nervously. His whole body was stiff, almost as if he was either ready to fight or run away. Hermione had a feeling that he had a death grip on his wand right now.

A look of fright was imprinted on Ginny's features, as if the future Voldemort had suddenly appeared in front of her. Her eyes were wide, reminding Hermione of doe's eyes, and even her freckles seemed to have become a few shades paler. In some ways, Hermione felt as if she was looking at a younger Ginny—the Ginny immediately after the incident with Tom's diary.

It seemed like an eternity passed before Tom spoke. "Yes, just like me," he replied softly.

Hermione tried to deduce what he was thinking but to no avail. Tom glanced at her inquiringly before she realized that she was watching him a little too attentively.

She blushed furiously, wishing someone would jump out and hit her with a Killing Curse. Riddle was probably going to think that she was one of his admirers. She turned her head towards Harry, hoping that her face was not as red as she thought it was. Even if it was, she doubted her best friend would notice since he seemed more worried about his own slip-up.

So much for trying to avoid the young Voldemort's attention.

"He … um … He's..." Ginny started to say.

Tom smiled and interrupted her stuttering.

"You only have approximately five minutes before your next class begins. Are you sure you will get there on time?" he said with a smile.

It took a moment before Hermione completely digested what had just happened in front of her.

 _I must be out of my mind … but honestly, is he_ flirting _with her?_ Hermione wondered in revulsion.

"Oh Merlin!" Ginny exclaimed as she kissed Harry on the cheek. The three of them watched her run towards her next class.

Hermione looked back at Tom after Ginny disappeared from view and found that he was gazing at her with an emotionless expression again. It frustrated her to no end. She wanted to know what was going through his brain. She felt as if they were playing cat and mice.

Unfortunately, he was the cat and they were the mice.

"We should get ready for class as well," Tom said casually, as if nothing had happened.

Harry nodded nervously and headed towards the door. Tom stepped aside and gestured for them to enter first. Harry exchanged a glance with Hermione before they muttered their thanks and walked into the Potions classroom.

They made sure they were sitting at desks that were far away from the future Dark Lord.

"What was he talking to Ginny about?" Harry whispered to her.

"How am I supposed to know?" Hermione huffed, throwing him a look. "Just so you know, I'm not a Legilimens."

"I know that," he answered, very much annoyed. "I'm just worried about Ginny. She looked really frightened back there."

"I know, but there's nothing we can do now," she replied helplessly. "I was hoping that we wouldn't catch his attention, but obviously that whole incident at the lake made him curious about us."

Harry groaned.

"This is not good," he said. He buried his face in his hands. "This is not good at all. He seems to have taken a special … interest in Ginny."

"For a lack of a better word." Hermione grimaced.

She took out her Potions equipment and placed it on the table.

From the corner of her eye, she saw Tom speaking quietly with his friends. Draco was also sitting with them. As usual, the blond was avoiding eye contact with Hermione and Harry. Strangely enough, he did not look particularly comfortable with the Slytherins, either.

She noticed Tom saying something to the group of Slytherins while looking towards them.

"I think he's playing with our minds. Whatever he does, don't jump into his trap, Harry."

"I know that much," he answered.

Hermione rolled her eyes. "That's what you say, but we all know your rashness always interferes with what 'you know'," she pointed out.

"I'm a Gryffindor. What do you expect?" he exclaimed with an exaggerated flapping motion of his arms.

Hermione laughed.

Harry leaned back on the chair and massaged his temple. "I'll try my best," he finally promised. "However, if he tries to hurt Ginny..."

"We're in Hogwarts," she cut in firmly. "If anything happens, go to Dumbledore."

Harry reluctantly nodded, silently hoping that nothing would happen throughout the school year.

~-0-~

Hermione was, all in all, surprised to find Tom Riddle in a Muggle Studies class. Perhaps she shouldn't be, since Gareth and Joseph had mentioned that he had even more classes than she did, something which still irked her to no ends. Nonetheless, she would have thought that he hated and knew enough (or so he thought) about Muggles to avoid the class like a plague. Thus, when he sat down in the chair in front of her, her mind went momentarily blank.

He turned around and looked at her after he finished placing his things on the table.

"Seems like we're in many of the same classes," he commented conversationally.

Hermione composed herself before she smiled politely.

"Seems like it," she agreed.

 _One class too many_ , she mentally added.

His hand rested casually on the back of his chair, abnormally long fingers curling slightly on the polished wood. It was strange to realize that they looked almost exactly the same now as they would in the future, the only difference being the lack of a spider-like quality.

"You seem to enjoy learning. Always eager to listen to what the professors have to say and always answering questions that are asked in class," Tom observed, studying her facial expressions as he spoke to her.

"The same could be said about you," she replied, searching her brain for something to do so she would not have to face him all by herself.

Even if he was attractive, it was not well-mannered for her to keep staring at him. At least she was pretty sure he was not a Legilimens yet, so she did not need to guard her thoughts every single minute.

 _Not like you're a wonderful Occlumens anyway, Hermione_ , she gravely thought to herself.

It was something that had bothered her for a long period of time and something she would never allow Harry to know. She mildly regretted scolding Harry during their fifth year when the young man could not block his mind from Lord Voldemort. It seemed as if there was something standing in between Gryffindors and the art of Occlumency.

"Knowledge is the key to success," Tom commented, drawing her attention back to him. He looked out the window and drummed his fingers on the desk absentmindedly.

She nodded.

Grudgingly, she had to agree with what he said. Not many people understood the importance of knowledge. Harry and Ron always made fun of her when she read books from the library. They just did not know how much one could learn from the experiences of others.

"So, how do you like Hogwarts thus far?" he asked, looking back at her.

She noticed that his eyes were very dark. It was impossible to tell what color they were.

 _Windows to the soul, indeed_.

"I like it very much," she replied, glancing off to the side.

She absently prodded the quill on her table with her forefinger.

 _I'd like it a whole lot better if I didn't have to worry about you or your cronies deciding to kill me, actually_ , she thought wryly.

"Hogwarts is quite different from your former school, is it not?" Tom continued to ask.

"Oh yes, very different," she answered, mentally sighing to herself.

"Am I bothering you with too many questions?" he suddenly asked.

She looked up at him, surprised.

"No, it's not like that..."

"I'm terribly sorry. I mean, we rarely get foreign students here at Hogwarts; I just couldn't stop myself from asking questions! My apologies," he quickly said.

The worried expression on his face was so genuine that she almost felt sorry for him. Almost.

"No, I was just thinking about the Potions essay that's due on Monday," she explained as she went back to staring at her forefinger prodding the quill. She had to continually remind herself that she was facing a wizard who was extremely talented in manipulating people.

"By your excellent performance in classes, I'm sure that you would do wonderfully on it," he assured her.

"Thanks," she replied, a small smile appearing on her face.

"You don't have to thank me. What I am saying is what I believe to be true," he said.

Hermione blushed slightly.

He sure could be charismatic when he needed to be.

"From what I've heard about you, you're incredibly intelligent," she said, still relishing the fact that the Heir of Slytherin— _ **Lord Voldemort**_ —complimented her.

"Rumors often travel faster than the truths, especially at Hogwarts," he responded modestly. A hint of a smile appeared on his face before he asked offhandedly, "Mr. Evans is courting Miss Weatherby, I assume?"

Hermione's head snapped up. His eyes were hooded so she could not read what his thoughts were. Of course, even if he were to look at her, she would assume that it would be with the same impassive expression.

 _Tom sodding Riddle better not think about somehow manipulating Ginny again_ , Hermione thought. She neglected the fact that technically, the diary Horcrux and Ginny had not met one another yet. _If that's what he's thinking, then I would have to hurt him on behalf of every single soul he has ever maimed_.

Momentarily, she wondered if he was only using compliments as a tactic to gain information from her. She almost felt as if she had been slapped across the face.

"He's her boyfriend," she answered harshly, throwing her quill onto her desk.

"I see," he replied softly. His eyes remained fixed on a spot on her desk, as if he found it particularly entrancing.

"Her fiancé actually," she continued almost angrily, determined to destroy any intentions, good or bad, he had towards the girl. "They are very much in love. Although it did take Harry a good number of years to find out that he liked Ginny, they were meant to be. It's destined. I mean, Ginny basically fancied Harry since she first saw him at King's Cro-"

She cut herself off abruptly, eyes widening in alarm. What was she doing? Merlin …

Tom looked straight at her. Although he maintained a polite façade, there was a victorious glint in his eyes.

"King's Cross?" he asked.

She could almost hear the smirk that he was hiding behind that disgustingly innocent smile.

Maybe she should take a leaf out of Dumbledore's book and have someone blast her off the Astronomy Tower right now. Hermione swore she could hear every single brain cell blasting apart as she thought of a way to cover up her stupid mistake.

"Yes … Different magical schools sent him acceptance letters and Harry wanted to see all of them before he chose one," she answered slowly. She prayed that Tom would believe that story she conjured out of nowhere.

"How interesting," he remarked casually, shattering any hope Hermione had. He turned around and faced the front as the professor walked into the classroom.

Hermione suddenly had the urge to stab the back of his head with her quill. Actually, forget the quill; stabbing done with her wand might inflict more damage on him.

_The scheming freak!_

~-0-~

 **A/N** : Many thanks to my betas, Lildaani, Noybate, Hajnalmadar, and matterhorn, and my wonderful reviewers!

**Chapter 4**

"This is ridiculous," Hermione groaned, burying her face in her hands. She let the usual chatter and activity of the Gryffindor common room wash over her for a moment before continuing in a low voice, "It was supposed to be over. We're not supposed to go through Vol... You-Know-Who again."

They had decided that using the name "Voldemort" would be too dangerous since only his Knights were supposed to know that name. Additionally, they only had minimal knowledge in regards to who sided with the future Dark Lord and who did not.

Ginny shot a worried look at her fiancé, obviously disturbed by the information that the darkest wizard of their time had apparently taken a special interest in them.

"But... you said he was just looking at us, right? That doesn't mean he'll do anything to us, does it?" she asked, sounding almost timid.

"Wouldn't it be kind of ironic if it was 'destined' for me to vanquish a guy and then be sent back in time just to be killed by the same guy?" Harry commented with a humorless laugh.

"That's not funny, Harry," Ginny said with a shudder.

Harry placed his hand on his fiancée's shoulder affectionately.

"I'm sorry," he apologized softly.

Ginny shook her head, indicating that she was okay.

"I think we should stay low profile throughout the year," Hermione suggested, furrowing her eyebrows in thought. "Thankfully, they didn't make a big deal about foreign students coming to Hogwarts, although I do suspect that Dumbledore was the one who talked Dippet out of it. That's the last thing we'd want. In regards to going home, Dumbledore should find something within a year. I mean, how hard could it be? It's Dumbledore we're talking about."

"That's if we actually live long enough to return home, Hermione," Harry said in a low voice. "You have no idea how much damage he could do at this age. Not to mention that that _thing_ is still alive."

The witch understood that he was talking about the Basilisk. She sighed dejectedly. "Good thing there were no records of You-Know-Who trying to let his pet out for a slither after what happened in last year."

As Harry nodded, Hermione noticed a young woman with shoulder-length brown hair and sharp eyes watching them from across the room. A cold smile appeared on the young woman's face before she looking away.

"Who is that?" Hermione questioned, her eyes still on the Gryffindor.

Harry squinted towards the direction the witch was looking.

"Isn't that Augusta Rookwood?" he asked. "Joseph pointed her out to me today, during Transfiguration class." He then said in a lower voice, "By the way, isn't Neville's grandmother's name Augusta?"

Hermione and Ginny stared at him.

"So Neville is related to the Rookwoods?" Ginny hissed.

"I don't know. Somewhere in the back of my mind, I remember that Neville's grandmother's name is Augusta," Harry replied. "I've never asked him about her maiden name. I mean, it's really none of my business anyway."

The three of them looked back at the Head Girl, who was now talking animatedly with other Gryffindor seventh-years grouped around her.

"She doesn't seem really friendly," Ginny commented softly.

"She doesn't," Harry agreed. He laughed. "She's not really friendly when she's older either."

The two witches laughed at his assessment. After they stopped laughing, they sat quietly for a while, looking at the fireplace where the logs were burning merrily. The trio never quite understood why the house elves started the fire so early. The weather was cool but not really freezing cold.

"I think we should go check up on Mal-Malloy one of these days," Hermione suggested, breaking the silence. "I'm more worried about him than about us. At least we have the comfort of being in a completely different dorm. He has to share a dorm with You-Know-Who's close friends."

"Are you sure?" Ginny asked as she leaned back in the armchair she was sitting in. "He did tell us to leave him alone."

"I know," Hermione answered, "but I still don't wish harm to come to him. I'm just hoping that he hasn't let anything slip."

Ginny sighed and shrugged. "Well, if you insist on it."

"Sort of makes me wish that I could look inside You-Know-Who's brain again," Harry joked as they walked towards the stairs, attempting to make the situation more lighthearted.

Unfortunately, the two young ladies did not quite appreciate it and glared at him instead.

~-0-~

They tried to find an opportunity to speak with Draco, but this had proven impossible. They always felt that Tom was silently keeping an eye on them—and it definitely did not help that he was in every single one of their classes. In addition to this, Draco still avoided them like the plague, refusing to give them a chance to corner him by himself.

"I think we should just forget about it, Hermione," Harry suggested as they walked to their Potions class. "I mean, Malloy did tell you to leave him alone."

The young witch looked at him disapprovingly.

"Harry, I've told you already. If he lets something slip, we're all in deep trouble," she explained. In a lower voice, she continued, "We didn't come back with a Time Turner but I'm sure the regular laws of time traveling apply here as well. We're not supposed to change the future."

"But aren't we changing the future already?" Harry whispered. "You-Know-Who sees me now and in the future. Won't he know that Harry Potter is Harry Evans?"

"He will probably think you're Harry Potter's ancestor or something," she answered with a frown.

"I thought he was supposed to be smart," Harry remarked, raising an eyebrow.

"Supposedly," Hermione agreed, "but it's fifty years from now. He'll probably forget about you. Besides, how was he supposed to know that some pillock would grow up to look like his Hogwarts classmate?"

Harry snorted.

"And didn't you mention that he said himself that you looked somewhat like him? He probably thinks that it's common for random people to look similar or something. As long as we avoid attracting attention to us, he shouldn't have the chance to actually know you."

"You're forgetting that trouble often comes and finds me," he sighed, "especially when he's involved."

Hermione nodded grimly in response, glancing up the corridor to see how close they were to their classroom. Her eyes widened in dismay as she stopped abruptly, causing Harry to look at her, confused.

"Ginny!" she called out, bursting into motion and quickly leaving her companion behind.

For a moment, Harry had no idea what was going on, his first thought being of Death Eaters attacking the students. When he saw what had caused his friend's reaction, he hurried after her in alarm.

Ginny was standing in front of the Potions classroom, but she was not alone. A certain dark-haired young man was standing right next to her. A relieved look appeared on her face when she saw Hermione.

Tom looked at the two of them with mild interest. "Good afternoon, Miss Granger," he greeted her with a pleasant smile. "I believe that's what I've heard the professors refer to you as."

"Good day to you as well, Mr. Riddle," Hermione responded as she stood slightly in front of Ginny.

Although Ginny had never shown any discomfort in front of other people, she confessed to Hermione one day that she was still unsettled by the events during her first year at Hogwarts. Images of how Tom charmed and manipulated her were still fresh in her memory.

"Please, do call me Tom and not Mr. Riddle," he insisted.

"Oh, alright, Tom," Hermione replied. She hoped that the smile that she had plastered on her face looked as genuine as the one he had on his face. "Ginny should run along to class or she might be late."

She looked at the redhead who was nodding quickly.

"Forgive me for holding you back, Ginny. I sincerely hope that we can finish our conversation some other time," Tom said, turning back to Ginny.

"Conversation?" Harry asked, placing a hand protectively around her waist.

Tom's eyes flickered to Harry's hands before looking straight into his eyes.

"Just a casual conversation, Mr. Evans," he answered. "As the Head Boy, I do hope that you'll find yourself right at home at Hogwarts."

"Just like you, I assume," Harry snapped before Hermione could stop him.

An uneasy silence fell over the group. Hermione glanced uneasily at Tom, who was looking at Harry impassively. The latter was staring at the floor intently and shuffling his feet nervously. His whole body was stiff, almost as if he was either ready to fight or run away. Hermione had a feeling that he had a death grip on his wand right now.

A look of fright was imprinted on Ginny's features, as if the future Voldemort had suddenly appeared in front of her. Her eyes were wide, reminding Hermione of doe's eyes, and even her freckles seemed to have become a few shades paler. In some ways, Hermione felt as if she was looking at a younger Ginny—the Ginny immediately after the incident with Tom's diary.

It seemed like an eternity passed before Tom spoke. "Yes, just like me," he replied softly.

Hermione tried to deduce what he was thinking but to no avail. Tom glanced at her inquiringly before she realized that she was watching him a little too attentively.

She blushed furiously, wishing someone would jump out and hit her with a Killing Curse. Riddle was probably going to think that she was one of his admirers. She turned her head towards Harry, hoping that her face was not as red as she thought it was. Even if it was, she doubted her best friend would notice since he seemed more worried about his own slip-up.

So much for trying to avoid the young Voldemort's attention.

"He … um … He's..." Ginny started to say.

Tom smiled and interrupted her stuttering.

"You only have approximately five minutes before your next class begins. Are you sure you will get there on time?" he said with a smile.

It took a moment before Hermione completely digested what had just happened in front of her.

 _I must be out of my mind … but honestly, is he_ flirting _with her?_ Hermione wondered in revulsion.

"Oh Merlin!" Ginny exclaimed as she kissed Harry on the cheek. The three of them watched her run towards her next class.

Hermione looked back at Tom after Ginny disappeared from view and found that he was gazing at her with an emotionless expression again. It frustrated her to no end. She wanted to know what was going through his brain. She felt as if they were playing cat and mice.

Unfortunately, he was the cat and they were the mice.

"We should get ready for class as well," Tom said casually, as if nothing had happened.

Harry nodded nervously and headed towards the door. Tom stepped aside and gestured for them to enter first. Harry exchanged a glance with Hermione before they muttered their thanks and walked into the Potions classroom.

They made sure they were sitting at desks that were far away from the future Dark Lord.

"What was he talking to Ginny about?" Harry whispered to her.

"How am I supposed to know?" Hermione huffed, throwing him a look. "Just so you know, I'm not a Legilimens."

"I know that," he answered, very much annoyed. "I'm just worried about Ginny. She looked really frightened back there."

"I know, but there's nothing we can do now," she replied helplessly. "I was hoping that we wouldn't catch his attention, but obviously that whole incident at the lake made him curious about us."

Harry groaned.

"This is not good," he said. He buried his face in his hands. "This is not good at all. He seems to have taken a special … interest in Ginny."

"For a lack of a better word." Hermione grimaced.

She took out her Potions equipment and placed it on the table.

From the corner of her eye, she saw Tom speaking quietly with his friends. Draco was also sitting with them. As usual, the blond was avoiding eye contact with Hermione and Harry. Strangely enough, he did not look particularly comfortable with the Slytherins, either.

She noticed Tom saying something to the group of Slytherins while looking towards them.

"I think he's playing with our minds. Whatever he does, don't jump into his trap, Harry."

"I know that much," he answered.

Hermione rolled her eyes. "That's what you say, but we all know your rashness always interferes with what 'you know'," she pointed out.

"I'm a Gryffindor. What do you expect?" he exclaimed with an exaggerated flapping motion of his arms.

Hermione laughed.

Harry leaned back on the chair and massaged his temple. "I'll try my best," he finally promised. "However, if he tries to hurt Ginny..."

"We're in Hogwarts," she cut in firmly. "If anything happens, go to Dumbledore."

Harry reluctantly nodded, silently hoping that nothing would happen throughout the school year.

~-0-~

Hermione was, all in all, surprised to find Tom Riddle in a Muggle Studies class. Perhaps she shouldn't be, since Gareth and Joseph had mentioned that he had even more classes than she did, something which still irked her to no ends. Nonetheless, she would have thought that he hated and knew enough (or so he thought) about Muggles to avoid the class like a plague. Thus, when he sat down in the chair in front of her, her mind went momentarily blank.

He turned around and looked at her after he finished placing his things on the table.

"Seems like we're in many of the same classes," he commented conversationally.

Hermione composed herself before she smiled politely.

"Seems like it," she agreed.

 _One class too many_ , she mentally added.

His hand rested casually on the back of his chair, abnormally long fingers curling slightly on the polished wood. It was strange to realize that they looked almost exactly the same now as they would in the future, the only difference being the lack of a spider-like quality.

"You seem to enjoy learning. Always eager to listen to what the professors have to say and always answering questions that are asked in class," Tom observed, studying her facial expressions as he spoke to her.

"The same could be said about you," she replied, searching her brain for something to do so she would not have to face him all by herself.

Even if he was attractive, it was not well-mannered for her to keep staring at him. At least she was pretty sure he was not a Legilimens yet, so she did not need to guard her thoughts every single minute.

 _Not like you're a wonderful Occlumens anyway, Hermione_ , she gravely thought to herself.

It was something that had bothered her for a long period of time and something she would never allow Harry to know. She mildly regretted scolding Harry during their fifth year when the young man could not block his mind from Lord Voldemort. It seemed as if there was something standing in between Gryffindors and the art of Occlumency.

"Knowledge is the key to success," Tom commented, drawing her attention back to him. He looked out the window and drummed his fingers on the desk absentmindedly.

She nodded.

Grudgingly, she had to agree with what he said. Not many people understood the importance of knowledge. Harry and Ron always made fun of her when she read books from the library. They just did not know how much one could learn from the experiences of others.

"So, how do you like Hogwarts thus far?" he asked, looking back at her.

She noticed that his eyes were very dark. It was impossible to tell what color they were.

 _Windows to the soul, indeed_.

"I like it very much," she replied, glancing off to the side.

She absently prodded the quill on her table with her forefinger.

 _I'd like it a whole lot better if I didn't have to worry about you or your cronies deciding to kill me, actually_ , she thought wryly.

"Hogwarts is quite different from your former school, is it not?" Tom continued to ask.

"Oh yes, very different," she answered, mentally sighing to herself.

"Am I bothering you with too many questions?" he suddenly asked.

She looked up at him, surprised.

"No, it's not like that..."

"I'm terribly sorry. I mean, we rarely get foreign students here at Hogwarts; I just couldn't stop myself from asking questions! My apologies," he quickly said.

The worried expression on his face was so genuine that she almost felt sorry for him. Almost.

"No, I was just thinking about the Potions essay that's due on Monday," she explained as she went back to staring at her forefinger prodding the quill. She had to continually remind herself that she was facing a wizard who was extremely talented in manipulating people.

"By your excellent performance in classes, I'm sure that you would do wonderfully on it," he assured her.

"Thanks," she replied, a small smile appearing on her face.

"You don't have to thank me. What I am saying is what I believe to be true," he said.

Hermione blushed slightly.

He sure could be charismatic when he needed to be.

"From what I've heard about you, you're incredibly intelligent," she said, still relishing the fact that the Heir of Slytherin— _ **Lord Voldemort**_ —complimented her.

"Rumors often travel faster than the truths, especially at Hogwarts," he responded modestly. A hint of a smile appeared on his face before he asked offhandedly, "Mr. Evans is courting Miss Weatherby, I assume?"

Hermione's head snapped up. His eyes were hooded so she could not read what his thoughts were. Of course, even if he were to look at her, she would assume that it would be with the same impassive expression.

 _Tom sodding Riddle better not think about somehow manipulating Ginny again_ , Hermione thought. She neglected the fact that technically, the diary Horcrux and Ginny had not met one another yet. _If that's what he's thinking, then I would have to hurt him on behalf of every single soul he has ever maimed_.

Momentarily, she wondered if he was only using compliments as a tactic to gain information from her. She almost felt as if she had been slapped across the face.

"He's her boyfriend," she answered harshly, throwing her quill onto her desk.

"I see," he replied softly. His eyes remained fixed on a spot on her desk, as if he found it particularly entrancing.

"Her fiancé actually," she continued almost angrily, determined to destroy any intentions, good or bad, he had towards the girl. "They are very much in love. Although it did take Harry a good number of years to find out that he liked Ginny, they were meant to be. It's destined. I mean, Ginny basically fancied Harry since she first saw him at King's Cro-"

She cut herself off abruptly, eyes widening in alarm. What was she doing? Merlin …

Tom looked straight at her. Although he maintained a polite façade, there was a victorious glint in his eyes.

"King's Cross?" he asked.

She could almost hear the smirk that he was hiding behind that disgustingly innocent smile.

Maybe she should take a leaf out of Dumbledore's book and have someone blast her off the Astronomy Tower right now. Hermione swore she could hear every single brain cell blasting apart as she thought of a way to cover up her stupid mistake.

"Yes … Different magical schools sent him acceptance letters and Harry wanted to see all of them before he chose one," she answered slowly. She prayed that Tom would believe that story she conjured out of nowhere.

"How interesting," he remarked casually, shattering any hope Hermione had. He turned around and faced the front as the professor walked into the classroom.

Hermione suddenly had the urge to stab the back of his head with her quill. Actually, forget the quill; stabbing done with her wand might inflict more damage on him.

_The scheming freak!_

~-0-~


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter 5**

For the next few days, Hermione did her best to evade the Heir of Slytherin, determined not to let any more information slip. Unfortunately, because they shared so many classes, completely avoiding him was next to impossible. That he seemed to be actively seeking her out did not help matters at all, of course, but when he did catch up to her, she kept her answers simple and to the point.

Ginny and Harry reassured her that it was not her fault when she told them what happened.

"I remember he could be very convincing when he wanted you to talk," Ginny had explained to her.

However, Hermione still placed some of the blame on herself. She should not have lost her temper so easily.

By the end of the week, the tempers of the trio were running high. In the time travelers' opinions, Tom Marvolo Riddle was asking to be hexed sideways. In order to prevent Ginny from facing him all by herself, Harry and Hermione had to run through half of the castle every single day they had Potions class.

Several times they arrived to find that Tom had beaten them there, and Harry invariably reacted poorly. He would glower at the Slytherin and speak without first filtering the words through his brain. Hermione understood how much Harry wanted to protect Ginny and how helpless he felt when he was not able to. However, it did not stop her from worrying that he was signing his own death warrant with his actions. Tom showed no sign that he even noticed Harry's behavior.

Hermione could not help but feel slightly confused by Tom's motivations. She was pretty sure that Dumbledore had mentioned to Harry that Voldemort was incapable of feeling love. From his actions towards Ginny, however, it seemed as if he had some interest towards her. Assuming that he did like the redhead, it was illogical for him to be nice to Harry. In the end, she shrugged it off as his scheme to dig up secrets from them.

Muggle Studies proved to be the hardest challenge to Hermione's resolution to ignore all things Slytherin. In addition to Tom Riddle, she also had to put up with a Malfoy ten times more annoying than the one who traveled back in time with them. The fact that he sat right next to the young Voldemort only made it more irritating. Throughout the whole class, she was forced to listen to his snide remarks about Muggles and Muggle-borns.

She could not comprehend why Abraxas Malfoy would take a Muggle Studies class if he despised them so much.

 _Perhaps the Dark Lord needed some of his minions with him in case someone tried to assassinate him_.

Hermione allowed herself to immerse in a moment of silent giggles.

"It's obvious that there's no need for them at all."

The signature drawl of the Malfoys brought her out of her little amusement, and she glanced at Abraxas.

"Mr. Malfoy-" the Muggles Studies teacher, Professor Walker, started to say.

"The Muggle-borns will never understand the true nature of magic," the blond interrupted with distinct disgust on his face.

Hermione could feel her anger flaring up by his words.

"They should be kept in their world while we continue to live in our own," Abraxas said.

 _Don't attract too much attention, Hermione_ , she thought to herself.

"The Wizarding World will be much better off without Muggle-borns knowing about us," Abraxas continued, his arms crossed across his chest. "Why should we expose our world to them? They'll only bring danger to us."

"Funny how you _**think**_ you know so much about Muggles and Muggle-borns when you don't even understand them," Hermione said coldly, eying him with contempt.

He turned his head towards her slowly and looked at her condescendingly.

"And how is that so?" Abraxas questioned her as if she were a child. He slowly stood up, a smirk plastered on his face, attempting to intimidate her with his height. "We are born into a society that had been saturated by magic. We are born knowing the wizarding ways, using the magic, and loving the power. On the other hand, Muggles and Muggle-borns fear it. They dread the magic that flows through our very veins, which is proven by the ridiculous witch trials that were held throughout their history. Tell me, how could they understand the beauty of it?"

"Many Muggle-borns and half-blood wizards and witches are some of our leading innovators," Hermione replied.

The logical side of her mind was telling her that she was attracting too much attention, judging by the number of heads that was turning around to look at her in awe. However, she was furious that he dared to bring their Death Eater bigotry into the classroom.

"That doesn't prove anything, Granger. It could be due to sheer luck or momentary ingenuity," Abraxas brushed off her argument.

At this statement, Hermione could feel her blood begin to boil. She could not believe that he actually discredited the work others had done simply because of their bloodline.

"It's pretty obvious that the wizarding race will die out sooner or later if everyone keeps to themselves," she replied much more heatedly.

"Trust me, Granger." He leaned forward towards her. "There are a lot of families that consist of _**only**_ pure-bloods."

"With some of their relatives married to people who are Muggles or Muggle-borns," she retorted.

"Who then got _disowned_ ," Abraxas sneered.

"Just because you don't understand why Muggle-borns are magical does not mean that they are inferior to you or do not belong to this world! I doubt that most people in this classroom are pure-bloods anyway," Hermione said.

He might be a whole lot taller than her, but she was not going to back down.

Abraxas looked at her through narrowed eyes.

"Of course we know that some people in here, such as _you_ , are not pure-blood. My family, however, has been pure-blood for as far as you can go back," he declared haughtily.

"It's pretty obvious that your entire family had always been as biased as you are and refused to marry anyone except a pure-blood," she sniggered.

"Then who were you talking about?" Abraxas challenged.

"There's no need to bring up names to prove my point," Hermione said vaguely. In a stronger voice, she continued to say, "The point of my whole argument is that just because you're pure-blood, doesn't make you better than Muggles or Muggle-borns."

His grey eyes flashed dangerously while she silently challenged him. She did not believe that he could actually harm her, especially when they were in a classroom.

Suddenly, Tom laughed. Both of them stared at him, dumbfounded.

"Sit down, Abraxas," Tom ordered softly. "We still have a class to finish. Besides, you can't win the argument."

Abraxas opened his mouth but, perhaps believing it unwise to disobey his master, shut it again. Reluctantly, he sat down and sent a glare towards Hermione.

The young Dark Lord turned around and looked at her. "Well said, Miss Granger."

Hermione almost snorted but quickly changed it into a cough. Perhaps a certain someone's pet might attack her one of these days. She probably should start walking around with her mirror again, just in case.

Hermione allowed a small smile to appear on her face when she saw Professor Walker beaming at her. While doing so, she noticed Augusta staring at her from the front of the classroom. She looked back at her questioningly. Augusta raised an eyebrow at her and looked back at the professor.

Somehow, Hermione felt that there was a hint of a sneer underneath Augusta's expression.

 _Don't be foolish. It's Neville's grandmother you're talking about_ , she thought. Nevertheless, she could not get rid of the nagging feeling that the Head Girl was not too fond of her.

~-0-~

She confused him. No. A better phrase would be the four newcomers confused him, in particular, the bushy-haired witch. At first, when Tom noticed Hermione answering every single question in class, he assumed that she was quite intelligent. Although she was not as pretty as some of the other girls at Hogwarts, she had a kind of fiery passion around her that would attract the attention of others. After he tricked her into revealing some information about their little group, however, he was led to believe that his first impression of her was wrong.

Until her argument with Abraxas a couple of days ago.

Many of the things that came out of Abraxas's mouth lacked logic and proper research. Nonetheless, most people would be intimidated by the young man before they could challenge what he had said. Something about the blond demanded respect.

Hermione did not let Abraxas get the best of her. Not to say that she would lose to him in a wizard's duel, but if Abraxas decided to resort to Muggle ways of combat, Hermione would not have lasted a second. She still refused to back down and threw everything back in the blond's face, an act which was praiseworthy.

Tom's eyes fell on the blond who was sitting in the corner with the rest of his Knights. They were talking quietly amongst themselves, waiting for orders from their Lord. They knew better than to disturb him when he did not talk to them.

He was sitting on a couch in front of the fireplace. The fire burning there hardly added any warmth to the cold dungeons. Tom tapped his fingers gently on the armrest. A hint of a frown appeared on his face as his mind drifted back to the four newcomers.

They acted as if it were their first time here, but to anyone who had the slightest bit of common sense, it was obvious that they had been to Hogwarts before. No one could walk through the hallways without getting lost on their first days of school. The three of them, however, always chatted animatedly while they rushed to classes. It was as if they were so familiar with the school that they did not need to watch where they were going.

The problem the young Voldemort was faced with right now was trying to get information from them. Ginny always had the look of a basilisk's victim when he tried to speak to her. He could not help but smirk at the thought of it. It was as if she knew the things he was capable of doing.

The smirk disappeared as he narrowed his eyes. Maybe they did know more about him than they had led him to believe. He would have to find out how much they knew.

Miss Weatherby had proven to be quite useless when it came to getting information, but Harry was even harder to communicate with than the girl. It seemed as if he had taken an immediate, inexplicable dislike to Tom. The boy appeared to be physically incapable of being more than civil where Tom was concerned. The courtesy quickly deteriorated whenever Tom talked to Ginny, and the boy would turn into a boiling pot of stew, spewing out scalding words and irritating comments.

He would have to be blind not to notice how Miss Granger would shoot glances towards Mr. Evans and nudge him when situations were about to get out of control. All in all, even if Tom was "kind" enough to forgive the boy for his comments, the three of them were far too mysterious to ignore. However, the boy's rudeness was downright infuriating and Tom did not fancy dealing with him at the moment.

He would have to find a time to question Abraxas about the new Slytherin. It was hard to see one without the other these days. Abraxas seemed to be quite fond of the boy, claiming that if not for the differences in surnames, Draco could pass for a Malfoy. Tom could see the logic since there were few differences between the two.

Draco, nonetheless, was much quieter than Abraxas. That was a quality Tom found extremely valuable. Perhaps he should order Abraxas to actually acquire it so he would not have to put up with the boisterous chats between him and Cygnus Black anymore. He found it difficult to read a book while the two of them chattered on nonstop. Honestly, they were worse than girls when it came to gossiping.

His best chance in finding out things about the newcomers would probably be the fiery little lioness. His problem, however, would be that Miss Granger insisted on using simple answers to his questions. If Tom wanted more information about why they were here and what knowledge they possessed, he would have to find a way to somehow irk her enough to start talking again.

That would probably prove to be an interesting challenge for him.

Although Tom never allowed his feelings to show, he was bored to death with the ladies that turned into a pile of mush at the mere sight of him. Hermione Granger was an excellent change to the boring routine he was used to in the past.

A ghost of a smile appeared on Lord Voldemort's face. It was going to be very interesting indeed.

~-0-~

Hermione ran her fingers over the book titles with a sigh. Although she had told everyone except Harry and Ginny that she was in the library doing research on a Transfiguration paper, she was actually looking for an answer to their time traveling. If Dumbledore did not know the answer to how they were sent back into the past, she doubted that the answer would be in the library. However, it still comforted her to be back in a familiar place.

She had been slightly surprised to see a younger Madam Pince in the library. The librarian was still awfully strict when it came to her books. Any "manhandling" of the texts or "riots in the library" would lead to the student being thrown out.

It took a moment for Hermione to reconcile this picture in her mind, but when she did, she mentally laughed at herself for forgetting the fact that Madam Pince had to have been young once.

_The Study of Time Travels…Stories of Self-Acclaimed Time Travelers…The Possibilities of Time Travel…_

Hermione let out a small sound of annoyance and frowned. Although she had known from the beginning that this was not going to go anywhere, it still irritated her. She glanced at the roped-off Restricted Section. Perhaps she should ask Harry for his invisibility cloak tonight so she could do some research. There was no homework due tomorrow so she should have time.

Hermione turned around to look at the bookshelf behind her but rocked back when she came face-to-chest with another person. He was so close to her that she was surprised that she had not felt his presence before she turned around. She looked up into a very handsome face with wavy black hair and dark eyes.

_He could give Lockhart a run for his money. No, I'm not that much into looks. It's the intellect that's important. Hm … Scratch out that first opinion. He could easily beat Lockhart any day._

Then again, he looked somewhat familiar as well.

Hermione coughed lightly as it sank into her brain at whom she was staring. She took a step backwards and found herself backed up into the bookshelf. She could feel her cheeks rapidly becoming warmer.

 _There's nothing to be embarrassed about. It's an established_ fact _that he's attractive_ , the witch told herself.

"Good day, Miss Granger." Tom smiled as he took out a book from the bookshelf.

"Hello," Hermione answered a bit shakily as she walked to the other bookshelf and looked through the titles.

She felt that it would be too obvious if she just walked out of the library when she saw him. Therefore, she decided to stay a little longer before finding an excuse to return to Gryffindor tower.

"Never thought I'd see you here. It's Saturday morning," he commented as he flipped through the book in his hands.

"There aren't as many people at this time," Hermione replied. As an afterthought, she added, "And it's easier to think in the morning."

He nodded in agreement before turning his attention to the books.

She managed to steal a glance at Tom.

It was really no wonder why most of the girls liked him, she supposed. Good looking, tall, well-mannered … even when he frowned the way he was now, it did nothing to decrease his charm.

She found herself wondering what had transformed him into the Voldemort she knew in the future. Although Harry thought that it was because Tom ripped his soul apart, Hermione thought otherwise. From their past experiences with the Horcruxes, it was obvious that soul-ripping had nothing to do with his features or else each fragment should look exactly like the pale, snake-eyed version of Voldemort.

No, it had to be something else. The curious side of her really wanted to discover the answer, but she knew better than to risk her life on it.

"Rubbish," he muttered, drawing her attention back to the present.

He stuffed the text back into the bookshelf before running his forefinger past the titles for something else to read. She peered at the book he had been looking at.

_Truths Concerning Salazar Slytherin: How Pure Was His Blood and Other Questions._

Hermione raised an eyebrow. She was pretty sure that Slytherin was most definitely a pure-blood and thus understood why Tom thought that the book was rubbish. However, she really wanted to grab the book and read the contents. Unfortunately, there was no way she could do that without alerting Tom. She glanced toward him and found that he was looking at her with an unreadable expression again.

Just as the prolonged silence began to irritate her, he opened his mouth.

"Theories about the most ridiculous things are accepted as long as they can somehow be supported," he explained softly, thoroughly surprising Hermione.

She had never thought that he would have bothered to give her an explanation.

"Although some of the theories in that book may be plausible in some way or another, they were mostly based on the authors' imagination and fantasies."

"A good foundation is required to build a strong theory," she commented.

Tom nodded with a grim look.

"Unfortunately, many of these writers do not bother to research their materials properly before publishing their books," he replied as he placed the book in his hands back into the bookshelf and looked for another one.

Hermione narrowed her eyes at him.

"Did you read that book?" she asked before she could stop herself.

He stopped in his motions and looked at the witch questioningly.

She gestured towards the book he had just returned to the bookshelf. "I meant the one that was just in your hands. Not the one about Slytherin."

A look of understanding dawned on his face.

"Skimming through the book would often let one know if the book is worthy of reading or not," he answered before returning to his search.

"Oh," she said softly as she looked back at the book that was in her hands and almost laughed out loud at the irony.

She had randomly picked out a book and it turned out to be _The Unforgivables and History_.

"By the way, the book in your hand holds no significant information," he told her suddenly without looking at her. " _The Unforgivables: Detailed Information_ has a lot more information despite its boring title."

Trust him to know about those books.

"I was just curious," Hermione mumbled as she replaced the book.

He smiled in answer but did not look up.

For a fleeting second, she wondered why books about the Unforgivables were not placed in the Restricted Section. Then, she remembered that the Headmaster of Hogwarts was Dippet and not Dumbledore. In Hermione's opinion, the "Lord Voldemort" of the future was possible because of the professors during the 1940's. She found it a bit absurd that they did not detect anything wrong with Tom Riddle.

After mentally hexing the professors, she glanced at the book deemed rubbish by the "Model Student and Philanthropist of the Century" before taking a peek at him. He was reading the book in his hands but she could not tell if he was monitoring her motions or not.

Finally, she gathered up her courage and took out the book.

Hermione had read many books, some that were large enough to kill if thrown at someone. Even so, this particular book was a rather large one. With difficulty, she propped it up on her arm and ran her eyes over the front cover.

The emblem of Hogwarts was printed on the front cover with the symbol for the House of Slytherin highlighted. Apparently, the book was a compilation of essays. A list of author names was printed after the book title. The name that caught her attention was Mopsa Meadowes. If she remembered correctly, "Meadowes" was a surname of one of the members of the first Order of the Phoenix. She would have to remember to ask Harry when she returned to the Gryffindor common room.

Unaware that Tom was scrutinizing her, she opened the book to page one and started to read the contents.

~-0-~

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **A/N:** Many, many thanks to my betas: Lildaani, Noybate, and Hajnalmadar.


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter 6**

The moment Hermione read the first sentence of the book, she wanted to burst out laughing. Somewhere in the back of her mind, she wondered if the author had actually known Tom Riddle when she wrote the book. Instead of staring at him and causing him to suspect that she knew something she shouldn't, she forced herself to continue reading.

 _Despite the fact that Salazar Slytherin had always been a big supporter_ _of pure-blood_ _supremacy,_ _there is much speculation_ _supporting the theory that he was, in actuality, a half-blood. There were many hints_ _in his mysterious childhood that_ _had_ _led many of his contemporaries to believe that his mother_ _might have been_ _a Muggle._

Staring at the pages, she had to stifle a snort. It was a good thing she hadn't read this during breakfast, or she might have ended up choking on her pumpkin juice. Rolling her eyes at the absurdity of the article, she flipped to the front of the book and started to look through the table of contents.

Many of the topics were so ridiculous that she would not have been surprised if they had been from _The Quibbler_. The book discussed everything from the purity of Slytherin's blood to the Chamber of Secrets. She would have to remember to tell Harry about that one. The author had obviously been overindulging when she suggested that Slytherin had had a pet manticore.

Her eyes landed on a section concerning the death of Slytherin.

" _Why Slytherin Might Still Be Alive_?" Hermione read the title of one of the essays out loud.

Tom chuckled suddenly, causing her to look up from the book. She had almost forgotten that he was standing right next to her. He did not say anything in regards to why he had laughed. Instead, he just placed the book in his hands back onto the shelf and looked for another one.

The witch, however, bit her lower lip in concentration before she resolutely turned to the page of the essay and started to read.

 _Although the method by which it was accomplished still remains to be discovered, there_ _is much speculation that one of the Four Founders of Hogwarts may still be_ _alive. Throughout the years, there have been many sightings of Salazar Slytherin across the globe by_ _numerous_ _eyewitnesses_ _as_ _is_ _stated in_ Unexplained _by Ernest Night._

 _As I stated in my other essay,_ The Truth behind the Fight between the Four Founders of Hogwarts _, Salazar Slytherin_ _had always been obsessed with the idea of living forever._

Hermione rolled her eyes. That would explain Voldemort's obsession with being immortal. The answer had been there all along: it was in the genes.

She resisted the urge to laugh out loud and continued to read.

" _It would give him_ _the opportunity to forever_ _purge the school of those unworthy to learn magic." (Lewis,_ _3982)._ _The ceremony of the book destruction (held by the three remaining Founders) which occurred right after Slytherin left the premises of Hogwarts supports this theory._

Hermione's jaw dropped open at the thought of book destruction in Hogwarts. How did it escape her attention? She had read through many of the books in the library but she had never read anything about books being destroyed at Hogwarts.

"You wouldn't expect the book burning conducted by the _noble_ Gryffindor to be written about in every single book, would you?" Tom suddenly asked.

Hermione found that he was looking over her shoulder at the book in her hands.

"I can assure you that if it had been Slytherin who had destroyed the books, every text you came across would've at least mentioned it once."

"If it's not in most books, how do you know about it?" she questioned, narrowing her eyes at him.

"It's in some of the books in the Restricted Section," he replied.

Hermione simply stared at him with her eyebrows raised. She suddenly realized how terribly easy it would have been for him to tell the professors that he was simply doing research in the Restricted Section. For the second time that day, she mentally cursed the professors of the forties for allowing the future to turn out the way it did.

He looked at her with mild curiosity, perhaps perplexed by her expression. When she made no move to explain or comment, he pulled out a book and started to read it, giving her a rather close-up look at his profile.

If she momentarily ignored the fact that he was on his way to becoming the world's most notorious wizard, she could easily understand why people would find him charming and attractive. Hermione secretly believed that Ginny would have been attracted to Tom Riddle if the diary incident had not happened.

_And who's to say that she didn't fancy him back then? Or even now?_

It was a rather disturbing thought, but she knew that there was a high probability that it was true.

Hermione squinted at the wizard, trying to find some kind of fault in him behind that pretense of innocence. There had to be something there that pointed towards what he would become in the future. It was impossible for someone to put up such a successful and flawless show.

Tom was correct in saying that there were similarities between him and Harry. They both had dark hair and the boyish good looks. The difference between the two of them was that the Heir of Slytherin had a feeling of darkness surrounding him when he was not smiling.

Additionally, Harry lacked the sense of confidence that Tom possessed. It was hard to believe that the latter actually had grown up in an orphanage. The grace with which he moved and spoke made it seem as if he was from the high-class end of society.

 _It would probably serve Harry well if he learned to have more confidence in himself. I mean, he_ **is** _quite attractive. Look at all his_ _admirers_ _he had never acknowledged back in the future._

A memory of how girls had nudged each other when Harry, Ron, and she had walked past them popped into her mind. Of course, Harry and Ron were always talking about Quidditch or some other topic, stopping them from fully noticing how attractive Harry was to the girls in school.

And it was certainly not just because of his fame.

Suddenly, Tom looked up from the book and stared straight into her eyes. Hermione froze like a deer caught in the headlamps. She could feel the blood rushing to her feet before rushing all the way back to her cheeks, making her feel slightly dizzy. Before she could say anything, he smiled at her and looked back at the book.

The witch wished that she could dig a hole in the ground and hide inside it until 1998. She could already hear the rumors before they started. She silently told herself that nobody knew her during this time period. She was not the friend of Harry Potter, vanquisher of the darkest wizard in history. She was not the Gryffindor know-it-all. She was not …

 _Oh, dear Merlin! Of_ _all people, why do I have to have_ **Voldemort** _think that I fancy him?_ Hermione moaned inside her brain as she felt her cheeks getting warmer and warmer. _Perhaps he will_ _think that I am looking at the bookshelf behind him._

She glanced at him again. Oh no. Oh dear. He was no longer just smiling.

He was _**smirking**_ while he read the book.

In addition to embarrassment, Hermione was also beginning to feel irritated, and it was further fueled by his next words.

"You don't have to feel _**too**_ embarrassed about...the _**staring**_ ," he said as if he was trying to placate her.

Her eyes widened as she looked at him. He was still reading the stupid book and the smirk was becoming more and more apparent. Couldn't she just take the book out of his hands and chuck it at his head?

"I was _**not**_ —" she started to say but was cut off by him.

"At least you don't … giggle as much."

"Tom—"

"It really makes it quite hard to read when there's someone next to you giggling all the time."

"I'm telling you—"

"I don't mind it, really," Tom continued with a shrug, although his eyes never left the book.

"Tom—"

"But I would have to warn you about something. I don't appreciate people touching me when I haven't given them permission to, so please refrain-"

Hermione could almost feel the steam coming out of her ears.

" _ **Tom Marvolo Riddle**_!" she screamed.

He looked up at her innocently.

"Miss Granger!" Madam Pince scolded. She pointed at the door of the library. "Out! Two weeks!"

Hermione stared at the librarian, her mouth gaping like a fish. She turned her head towards Tom and shot him an angry glare before she stomped out of the library.

As Hermione stormed back to the Gryffindor Tower, she started to mentally curse at the Slytherin in every single language she knew. She was banned from the library for _**two whole entire weeks**_!

She certainly had another reason to hate Tom Riddle now.

~-0-~

Tom looked at Hermione's retreating figure, twirling his wand idly and leaning on the doorframe of the library. For a few seconds, he silently marveled at how much the girl looked like a rampaging manticore.

He knew that the witch did not fancy him. It was pretty obvious that she was not looking at him with amorous intentions. There was curiosity in her eyes, yes, but certainly not affection. Tom had simply hoped that making her angry would loosen her tongue. Unfortunately, it seemed that he had gone a bit overboard and made the girl scream at him instead. He smirked at the image of her nearly hexing him right then and there in the library.

Regrettably, he still did not have the information he wanted. They were forcing him to use other options that would be much more entertaining for him but much less agreeable to them. A vile smirk appeared on his face. He was going to enjoy it very much, especially when he finally found out what they were hiding from him. Lord Voldemort always got what he wanted, regardless of what he had to go through. This time would not be any different.

He would have to remind his Knights to leave this little lioness alone, though. His encounters with her up to this point had been far too enjoyable to share with them and he was not a person who liked sharing.

The wizard looked back at the girl who was now stomping up the stairs, nearly sending a first-year tumbling down in her wake.

Definitely enjoyable.

~-0-~

All eyes fell on her when she stormed through the portrait hole, her cheeks flushed from anger. Gareth's mouth fell slightly open in surprise. With a twinge in her heart, she recalled how often that look had appeared on Ron's face. However, that sense of nostalgia was quickly replaced by the anger she felt for a certain Slytherin Head Boy.

"Er … hello, Hermione. How was your day?" Joseph asked nervously. She narrowed her eyes at him which caused him to cough lightly into his hand.

"What happened?" Ginny questioned.

"I've been _**banned**_ from the library," she replied through gritted teeth, "for _**two entire weeks**_!"

"How?" Harry frowned.

"Because … _**because**_ ," Hermione seethed as her gaze went over to Gareth, who quickly averted his eyes, "of Gareth's _**friend**_!"

"Er …Tom?" Gareth asked, scratching the back of his head.

"How dare...the nerve of that stupid, idiotic, pompous … _**thing**_!" she growled.

Joseph started to laugh, but quickly changed it into a hacking cough when the raging lioness's eyes fell on him.

"What did he do?" Ginny asked delicately.

"The git accused me of fancying him! As if! I am … does he honestly _**think**_ that he's that charming?" Hermione fumed.

Harry, Ginny, Joseph, and Gareth exchanged a look with one another. None of them were sure if they were supposed to answer the question. They soon found out that an answer was not required from them when she continued to verbally abuse the young Dark Lord.

"Miss Granger," a cold voice floated down to them a few minutes later.

Hermione abruptly stopped her ranting and looked over to the staircase. From the tone of the voice, she almost expected to find a Slytherin there, but instead, she found Augusta Rookwood. The Head Girl's expression was just as cold as her voice.

"You are setting a terrible example for the younger students. If you do not keep your voice down, I might have to consider taking points from my own House. Now, if you would _**kindly**_ lower your voice so the rest of us can _**study**_ ," she sneered. With that said, she turned around and retreated into her room.

For a while, Hermione continued gawking at the door. She peered at Harry and Ginny and found identical expressions of surprise on their faces.

"Er … that's our Head Girl," Gareth laughed uneasily. "You'll just have to get used to her. She's like that with everyone …"

His voice drifted off as he scratched the back of his head again. Hermione had a feeling that he was lying to her; Ron always did the same thing when he lied to her.

"She doesn't really like me, does she?" she asked with a wry smile on her face.

Joseph and Gareth took a peek at her, but did not answer, thoroughly confirming her suspicions.

 _Exactly what I need. Someone else to watch out for_ , she thought as she slumped down into an armchair besides Harry.

"Don't worry about her, Hermione. She just doesn't like the fact that you're smarter than her," Joseph comforted her.

"How would she know, anyway? We haven't attended that many classes yet," Hermione huffed.

"You're taking more classes than she is," Gareth pointed out. "I would bet that you would've been the Head Girl if you had been here since first year."

"She has never really liked us, either, so you're not the only one," Joseph said. In a shriller voice, he continued, "'Oh, look! If it isn't the blood traitors Weasley and Potter!'"

The trio stared at him for a moment, a bit taken aback by his eerily good imitation of Augusta's voice, before they burst out laughing. Joseph grinned, stood up, and bowed at them, causing them to laugh some more.

As Hermione gazed at her friends through her laughter, a warm feeling filled her heart.

It was comforting to know that she was not alone.

"Hey, at least you know that you won't be facing the rumors when we get home," Harry whispered to her.

Hermione sighed out of relief and agreement. Why should she really care about what Tom thought about her? Not that she was saying that she did not find him annoying. In fact, in her opinion he was one of the most annoying people she had had the displeasure of meeting.

At that moment, more than ever, she wished she was back in the future.

~-0-~

If Tom suspected that there was anything off about them, he didn't show it. He still greeted them each day when he saw them in class and attempted to be helpful to the "newcomers." However, every time he approached them with his "pleasant smile," Harry always had the sudden urge to find Dumbledore and encourage him to find a way to send them home as quickly as possible. Tom Riddle's "friendliness" was downright disturbing to Harry.

Their time in the 1940's wasn't all bad, however, since they had met a few people who might have been ancestors of people from their own time. Harry suspected that the "Black" who was in some of his classes must be Alphard, Sirius's uncle. Although they had not yet gotten a chance to talk with one another, they had exchanged a few grins during and in between classes. One girl, Lilian Brown, reminded them strongly of Lavender. She was extremely gossipy and was always one of the first students in Gryffindor to know about rumors in the school.

The more Harry looked at Augusta Rookwood, the more he suspected that she would be Neville's grandmother. However, that also meant that he was becoming more and more confused about the future. He had no idea why Neville's grandmother would treat them nicely in the future if she was so awful to them in the past; he was pretty sure Hermione's name would have come up in conversation between Neville and his grandmother.

Steering his concentration back to the Potions class, he looked at Hermione, who was attempting to finish the potion before a certain Slytherin. He was fairly certain that she was using intellect as a form of secret revenge. Therefore, she was trying to accomplish schoolwork faster than Tom in almost every single class.

Harry cringed as he heard Hermione whisper a string of creative curse words. He suspected that she had learned them from Ron.

"It's not working," she announced as she skimmed through the instructions again.

"What?" he asked.

"The potion's not turning into the silvery purple that it says in the book," she muttered as an answer.

"Oh," he replied.

He looked across the room and found a silvery purple mist being emitted from Tom's cauldron. Harry shrugged his shoulders and continued to cut the dragon nails into perfect squares.

"You should've made his death ten times more painful, Harry," Hermione hissed angrily, making Harry wonder for a moment if she should have been placed in Slytherin instead.

"Uh … I tried?" Harry replied as his eyes flickered over to Professor Slughorn who was looking around the class to see who was perfecting the potion.

"A simple rebounded curse was an easy way out for him. He should've suffered more," she continued, dumping a spoonful of fairy dust into the brew. It seemed that she had found a way to turn the potion into the color it was supposed to be.

He laughed nervously. Hermione Granger could sometimes be as frightening as a crowd of Death Eaters.

"I guess," Harry answered, not wanting to anger Hurricane Granger even more.

He silently counted the seconds as the young woman beside him continued to mutter horrifying methods to torture Tom Riddle. He let out a sigh of relief when the potion was finally finished and Slughorn walked around to check everyone's work.

"And now, let's look over here," Slughorn announced as he walked over to Hermione and Harry's table. "My, my! You two do have potential in Potions. All you need is a bit more practice." The professor looked over at Tom and said, "Be careful, Tom, or these two might even surpass _**you**_ in cleverness!"

Tom gave the professor a humble smile. He had already finished the potion, explaining why Hermione now had a look of utter repulsion on her face. As he looked at her expression, Harry secretly realized that perhaps this kind of competition might be good for the witch; she had always been the cleverest in their year and had never been challenged enough.

Walking back to the Gryffindor common room, Harry could not help but feel that he was correct.

And it would probably give him and Ron something to tease her about when they returned to the future.

He smiled happily.

"What happened to her?" Gareth asked Harry as Hermione walked past him, a look of annoyance in her eyes.

"She … er … had a bad day," Harry answered. The witch in question had a look of deep thought on her face, leading him to believe that she was contemplating how to best Riddle in class.

"Can we talk to you for a second, Harry?" Joseph asked.

Harry nodded and the two young men pulled him to a corner where Hermione could not hear them.

"What's the matter?" Harry questioned.

"I want you to answer us truthfully," Gareth began.

"On the pain of death," Joseph added.

"What?" Harry asked, becoming more confused.

The two of them looked straight into his eyes.

"Does Hermione fancy Riddle?" Joseph asked.

"What?" Harry yelped.

Everyone in the common room turned around and looked at the three. Joseph and Gareth apologized before pulling Harry up to the boys' dormitory. They looked around to make sure that no one else was in the room before locking it.

"You can tell us, Harry. We promise we won't tell a soul," Joseph said.

"You two are out of your minds," Harry commented, shaking his head.

"Come on, Harry. We were there when she stormed into the common room, ranting about Tom accusing her of liking him," Gareth placed an arm around Harry's shoulder.

"Was she angry because Riddle was overly blunt about the subject?" Joseph questioned.

"Overly blunt?" Harry blinked.

Joseph sighed. "I mean, was she angry because she's shy about her feelings towards Riddle?"

"Or is it because Hermione simply didn't tell you?" Gareth inquired.

"It's possible," Joseph hypothesized. "She _is_ a girl, although quite a weird one—"

"Weird?" Harry frowned.

"Of course," Joseph nodded. "You don't see girls like her around. She's so..."

He frowned as he searched for a word to describe her.

"Aggressive," Gareth finished for Joseph.

The latter nodded in approval.

"Most girls are really, really quiet and they only giggle around Riddle," Joseph continued.

"She's always trying to catch his attention by answering questions in class," Gareth added.

"And trying to finish her work before he does?" Joseph pointed out.

Gareth nodded profusely.

"Joseph, Gareth -"

"Ask Hermione, Harry," Joseph suggested.

 _And get my head bitten off?_ Harry thought with a grimace.

"If she does like him, I could try to set up a date for her with Tom," Gareth proposed. "There is a Hogsmeade trip coming up soon."

Harry did not know whether it would be proper for him to laugh out loud at the situation in front of him.

"I think you've gotten it wrong. Hermione wouldn't like him," he declared.

"You might be quite surprised with how things turn out, Harry," Joseph said, shaking his head. "In many situations, the things that happen are precisely the ones that were joked about."

"Hermione is just angry at Riddle about something," Harry explained.

"Are you sure?" Joseph questioned doubtfully.

Harry nodded. "I'm positive that Hermione does **_not_** like him."

"If you're sure then," Gareth replied as he stretched. "If she does one day, don't say we didn't tell you."

Harry could not control himself anymore and doubled over in laughter.

Hermione fancying Tom Riddle? That was one of the biggest jokes he had ever heard! He could only imagine Ron's face if he was here to hear this ridiculous suggestion.

~-0-~

"Therefore, there are no possible ways for rubies to be used in potions," Tom was saying in answer to Professor Slughorn's question.

"Very good, Tom! Another ten points to Slytherin!" Slughorn exclaimed gleefully.

That was when Hermione shot her hand up into the air.

Slughorn looked at her questioningly. "Yes, Miss Granger?"

"I beg to differ, Professor," she replied.

The whole class turned around and stared at her.

"In what way?" Slughorn asked slowly. "Tom did answer the question correctly."

The ends of Hermione's lips twitched. Harry was pretty sure that she was having a hard time trying to conceal a smirk and correct Tom at the same time.

"While it is true that in most cases rubies cannot be used in potions, there are some rare cases in which they can," Hermione responded. "It is commonly accepted that rubies lack the magical properties that are required in potion ingredients. However, in truth, it would be more accurate to say that their magical properties are locked up.

"In some cases, when a ruby has been worn by a witch or a wizard for a long period of time, its magical properties have the chance to become unlocked. Of course, each ruby is unique and the magical property of each stone is different, but that certainly does not mean that rubies do not have the potential."

The whole class looked at her in awe while Slughorn clapped his hands together in happiness.

"Excellent, Miss Granger!" he exclaimed. "Fifteen points to Gryffindor!"

Harry looked worriedly at the satisfied expression on Hermione's face. He hoped she knew what she was doing.

~-0-~

"The theory clearly states that mixing the two potions together would cancel out the properties!" Hermione argued in Potions a couple of days later.

"That's why it's a _**theory**_ and not a _**fact**_ ," Tom disagreed.

Apparently, he had had enough of Hermione correcting everything he had to say.

Harry covered his face with hands. Slughorn, on the other hand, looked at the two as though he was watching a tennis match that he immensely enjoyed.

The other Slytherins, except for Draco (who was still ignoring them), were always looking angrily at the witch while the two of them bickered. Abraxas Malfoy, in particular, seemed to hold a grudge against Hermione.

The other students in the classroom had bored expressions on their faces as they immersed themselves in daydreams. Augusta, on the other hand, managed to ignore Hermione, although there were a couple of times when Harry caught her glancing at her with a calculating look.

To Harry, this was becoming a sort of a routine that he did not enjoy.

"It will not work," Hermione said as she crossed her arms in front of her chest.

"If you base everything on theory and not try it beforehand, Miss Granger, you can't be sure if it will work or not," Tom commented disapprovingly.

"Oh, I'm sure you've tried every single theory to see if there are ways around them," she huffed.

Harry glanced at Tom before he looked at Hermione with a horrified expression. He could see red lights going off. Or was it because Tom's eyes just momentarily flashed red?

Hermione still had an arrogant expression on her face but a blank look in her eyes. Harry could tell that she was thinking along the same lines as he was—she should not have said that. Although it might have sounded like a regular argument to other people in the classroom, it must have sounded to Tom as if they knew something about him that others did not.

"I was just suggesting that the two potions would've worked perfectly together. By no means do I have disregard for the theories that were created in the past," Tom explained silkily after a moment of silence.

His feelings were locked behind the façade he had put up again.

Hermione was biting her lower lip. Harry doubted that she had heard Tom so he kicked her gently under the table. She looked up at Tom in a way that reminded Harry of a scared bunny rabbit.

"Yes … I … I suppose … I misunderstood you the first time," she stuttered before sitting back down in her chair.

"Well, then! After that enlightening debate between Tom and Hermione, why don't we get started on the potion for today?" Slughorn asked gleefully.

Hermione exchanged an uneasy look with Harry and the two of them prepared the ingredients in silence, each of them immersed in their own thoughts.

~-0-~

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **A/N:** Many thanks to my betas, Lildaani, Noybate, and Hajnalmadar!


	7. Chapter 7

**Chapter 7**

"It's too dangerous, Hermione," Harry warned under his breath as they walked towards the Great Hall for dinner. "I thought you said that we're not supposed to attract his attention. I know you've always been answering questions, but … it's as if you're _**taunting**_ him now. What if he starts attacking you one of these days?"

"Sorry," she apologized. "I … I got carried away."

Harry and Ginny smiled at her.

"It's alright, Hermione," Ginny answered.

They ducked instinctively away as a cackling Peeves shot past, a spear in his hand.

"No, Harry's right. If I keep on doing what I'm doing, I'm going to attract more attention than I should," Hermione concluded with a frown. "Not to mention that I've nearly hinted to him that we know something about him. I should avoid attracting attention to myself." She sighed in defeat. "At least I have the fond memory of how Harry kicked his arse."

Ginny laughed.

"Imagine that, Hermione Granger not answering questions in class!" Harry exclaimed with mock horror.

"Oh, be quiet, Harry," Hermione scolded as the two of them laughed. "You don't even know how hard that will be, especially when I have every single class with him."

"Alright then. We'll go with you to Dumbledore's office every night and pretend that we're in class," Harry teased. "Then, we'll let you answer every question Dumbledore asks." He raised his hand and started jumping up and down in imitation of his best friend. "I know the answer, Professor! I know the answer!"

Hermione glared at Harry as Ginny giggled. "I'm sure Dumbledore has better things to do than to tolerate our ridiculous requests," she sniffed. "I'll live."

She desperately hoped that Dumbledore would find a way to send them back. She wanted to get away from Tom Riddle as soon as possible. Not mention the fact that she missed Ron dearly.

~-0-~

Her resolution to remain quiet completely shattered in their next Potions class when Tom bowed towards her after he was awarded ten points for correctly answering a question. The gesture could have passed as a gentlemanly move if not for the mocking and challenging undertone. The competition, therefore, continued at full throttle, eliciting groans and sighs from the other students in the room. As the combat between the two best students at Hogwarts ensued, Hermione's irritation with Tom only increased.

Augusta Rookwood turned out to be another thorn in her side. Whenever Hermione raised her voice even slightly in the Gryffindor common room, she would have some nasty comment to throw at her.

"Other people do need to study, you know. We all know that you're _**very intelligent**_ , verbally _**battling**_ with the Head Boy, but it would be _**appreciated**_ if you stop preventing the rest of us from hearing our _**thoughts**_ ," Augusta had scathingly said to her one day.

Both Harry and Ginny made it onto the Quidditch team, much to their joy. Hermione hardly cared about the sport, but recently, she found the Pitch more welcoming than the common room. At least she did not need to put up with Augusta's nasty remarks or glares from Tom Riddle's admirers.

Many of the girls at Hogwarts were quite resentful towards her. Somehow, they were under the impression that she was arguing with Tom in order to gain his attention. The upcoming Hogsmeade trip only added more problems since they feared that Tom might actually decide to go with Hermione.

This, of course, only fueled Hermione's wrath towards him.

"He's not more annoying than Malfoy. He's not more annoying than Malfoy," Hermione muttered under her breath, making her way to the Great Hall for lunch.

Ginny giggled beside her.

Hermione threw her hands up in the air in defeat. "Who am I kidding? He's the most arrogant, annoying, evil, snobbish, freaky control maniac in the history of mankind!"

"True. At least at home, they didn't think you fancied Malfoy," Harry laughed, earning a screech of aggravation from her.

When they walked into the Great Hall, they saw the object of their discussion standing at their table talking with Gareth. Hermione was further disgruntled by the sight of Abraxas standing beside Tom.

"Why don't they sit at their _**own**_ table?" she grumbled.

"They're not really sitting at our table," Ginny pointed out. "They're just talking to Gareth."

"I know that," Hermione replied. "I'm just sick and tired of seeing them. I thought Slytherins and Gryffindors were not supposed to be nice to one another."

"They're not," Harry said. "Riddle's the only one who seems to like Gryffindors."

"Which is all an act!" Hermione growled.

Harry looked at her with a helpless expression before they walked all the way to the Gryffindor table and sat down near Gareth and Joseph.

"Good day," Tom greeted them.

They mumbled their greetings before piling their plates with food.

"Granger, do you even brush your hair in the morning?" Abraxas sneered, stepping towards her with an expression that clearly said that he was looking for trouble.

"Good day to you, too, Malfoy," Hermione replied, rolling her eyes and pouring pumpkin juice into her goblet.

"Or should I ask, does your kind even know what a brush is?" he continued to ask tauntingly, taking yet another step towards her.

A smile appeared on her lips. After all, an overload of frustration was never a good thing for health. And recently, all she had been doing was accumulating annoyance. What was better than to unleash it on white ferret senior who had so willingly placed himself in her way?

"Enlighten me," she replied, plastering a fake smile on her face and turning around to face Abraxas. "I'm sure Malfoy Manor has so many mirrors and brushes that we would have to swim through them if we could make it past the front door."

The Gryffindors within the proximity snickered at her comment.

"Which reminds me," Hermione continued, placing a hand on her chin as if she was thinking and raising an eyebrow, "were you brought up learning how to throw witless insults at ladies? I would have expected so much more from a person who comes from a family like yours."

"Keep your mouth shut about my family, Granger," he warned, flames shooting up in his eyes.

"Then keep your comments to yourself and mind your own business," Hermione retorted, rolling her eyes again.

"Well, if you are going to walk in front of me all day, at least make yourself presentable," Abraxas replied, completely ignoring her words.

"You're going off topic here, Malfoy," she snorted as she stood up. She tilted her head to one side and grinned. "And nobody asked you to look at me. I never knew you had your eyes trained on me."

Someone from Gryffindor whistled at her comment.

"Who would want to keep their eyes on you?" he spat out, a look of disgust on his face.

Hermione mildly wondered where this conversation was going and decided to humor him a bit longer to find out.

"No one else seemed to mind what style my hair is in."

"Well, you're pretty hard to miss, aren't you?" he commented, raising his voice higher as a flush appeared on his pale cheeks. Hermione could not tell if it was from anger or embarrassment. "You're always walking around with a bird's nest that you call 'hair' on top of your head."

With that, he reached out and made an attempt to grab a lock of her hair.

She immediately shifted to one side to avoid contact with him, pulled out her wand, and pressed it against his chest.

"Touch me again and I'll hex you, Malfoy. Make no mistake about that," she warned quietly, her eyes narrowed.

His motions triggered the cautious part of her mind, warning her that this "conversation" was probably more than simple. It might have been simply a tactic to divert her attention. Her heartbeat quickened when she realized how close Abraxas had been in obtaining her hair.

And with his knowledge in the Dark Arts, that would have been the last thing she wanted or needed.

The Slytherins surrounding them became quiet, eying her with curiosity and surprise.

"Hermione," Harry pulled her sleeve.

He looked towards the staff table, but they were immersed in their own conversations and oblivious to what was happening between Hermione and Abraxas. Even if they were to look towards them, their actions would have been blocked by the people surrounding them.

"I'm only saying this once, Malfoy, and I'm not going to warn you again before I hex you," she said.

Abraxas's eyes alternated between looking at her and her wand, his lips pressed firmly together into a thin line. He then took a step backwards and held his head higher.

"I was only making a suggestion."

If looks could kill, Hermione was sure she would have been dead already. He stared at her for a moment and he probably would not have hesitated in hexing her on the spot if they were not right in the middle of the Great Hall. When he realized that there was nothing else he could do, he spun on his heel and stomped back to the Slytherin table, pushing aside a first year on his way back.

Hermione stowed away her wand, sat down, and took a gulp out of the pumpkin juice in front of her.

"I honestly wish Abraxas would grow up one of these days," Tom suddenly said.

Hermione nearly choked on her pumpkin juice. She had forgotten that he had not returned to the Slytherin table with Abraxas.

"He's quite judgmental sometimes and there's nothing we can say to change him," Tom continued while Hermione stared at the pumpkin juice thinking about how hypocritical he was.

"Don't feel bad about it, Tom," Gareth reassured him. "We know that you're different from him."

Hermione rolled her eyes despite her attempts to stop it. It was a good thing that he was standing behind her rather than in front of her.

She probably rolled her eyes a bit too much because she was feeling slightly dizzy now.

"It does look bad on the House though. It's a pity that people from different Houses can't get along with one another," she dimly registered Tom saying, attempting to fight the dizziness off.

"I think I'm going to return to the dorms for a while. I'm feeling slightly lightheaded," she muttered as she stood up from her table.

She distinctly heard gasps from Harry, Ginny, Joseph, and Gareth before she fainted into the arms of a young man with dark eyes and jet-black hair.

~-0-~

"Oh, she'll be alright. Be glad that she didn't have a chance to scratch her face before she fainted or else she would be living with scars for the rest of her life," she could hear Madam Pomfrey say.

"Will those boils go away soon?" a deep, calming voice asked.

 _Mm … I could listen to that voice forever_ , Hermione thought to herself as she stirred in the bed.

Although the significance of the conversation was not really registering in her mind, it was so soothing to hear this person talk. It was like drinking Butterbeer during the winter. She wondered who that voice belonged to as she buried her head deeper into the pillow. She was about to scratch the itch on her face but was grabbed by a strong, warm hand.

"It might take around five days, but it _**will**_ go away," Madam Pomfrey answered accompanied with the sounds of bottles clinking.

"Don't pretend you care about her, Riddle. You were obviously the one who did something to her pumpkin juice," she heard Harry's voice whisper angrily as her arm was harshly pulled out of the warm hand.

_Riddle?_

"And why would I do that?" the voice from heaven questioned, matching Harry's volume.

Hermione's eyes slowly fluttered open and she tried to make sense of what she heard and saw. Tall, handsome bloke standing on her right side. Slightly shorter, but quite attractive bloke standing on her left. Both of them seemed quite familiar, but for some reason her mind was moving a lot slower than usual.

"Hermione!" Ginny exclaimed as she pushed Harry aside and held on to the witch's hand. "Are you alright? You've been out for two hours already."

Hermione blinked once or twice, attempting to adjust her eyes to the brightness of the room. The windows were slightly open, allowing small currents of air to escape into the room and make the curtains billow into clouds of white. Rays of light from the afternoon sun stole into the room whenever the winds blew hard enough to make cracks in the curtains.

She closed her eyes in bliss whenever she felt the light breezes sweep across face. For some reason, it felt warmer than usual.

"Ginny … why am I feeling so … tired and hot?" she asked feebly.

"It has to do with the potion you were given," Madam Pomfrey answered as she walked over to the right side of the bed. "Excuse me, Tom."

He moved to the side, allowing Madam Pomfrey to have access to her patient.

"What was the potion, Madam Pomfrey?" Tom inquired.

Madam Pomfrey threw him a look of resignation as she helped Hermione up and fed her the antidote.

"It's an ancient potion. No student should have access to the formula since it should be in the Restricted Section," she huffed. "The professors these days! Dippet should really monitor who's giving out passes and allowing such dangerous knowledge to fall into the hands of students!"

She then helped Hermione lie down again before she took the emptied bottle into the backroom to clean out the remaining contents.

"We know that it's you, Riddle. Don't pretend that it's—"

"Harry …" Gareth started to say.

"I have no idea why you seem to have a grudge against me, but I was not the one who has done this," Tom cut in.

"What happened?" Hermione asked as she closed her eyes.

She was tired but she wanted to know what had happened to her. Her hand reached up to scratch the ongoing itch but her wrist was caught again. She opened her eyes slightly and found her wrist in Tom's hand.

" _ **Someone**_ poisoned your drink, Hermione," Harry snarled, especially emphasizing the first word before he pulled her wrist out of Tom's hand.

Tom had an unreadable expression on his face again.

"So I was poisoned?"

"Yes, Hermione," Joseph replied. "You have to remember not to scratch your face, though, or else it will leave scars."

Hermione widened her eyes despite how heavy her eyelids felt.

"Why? What happened?" she asked.

"Well …" Ginny looked at Harry while Joseph and Gareth exchanged a glance.

"The potion had other effects in addition to making you feel slow and tired," Harry said uneasily.

"And those would be?" Hermione persisted. Her eyes slid over to him, who avoided her look.

"You have boils on your face that might itch and hurt at the same time," Tom replied for them.

That would explain the itching.

"You can't scratch them or you might be either left with scars or something even worse," Tom continued.

"So I can't scratch them?" Hermione questioned as she closed her eyes.

It was going to be horrible. She could endure the pain, which was nothing compared to the Cruciatus Curse that Bellatrix Lestrange had hit her with; the itching, however, was a completely different issue.

"Doesn't Madam Pomfrey have a potion to stop the itching?"

"Momentarily, yes, but it will come back within two hours," Tom responded.

"That seems like a minor issue," Hermione remarked sarcastically.

"Well, that's not the only symptom," Ginny added awkwardly.

Hermione's eyes flew open as she looked at the redhead. Ginny looked at her, not knowing what to say. She closed her eyes for a few minutes before she strengthened her hold on Hermione's hand. Ginny then opened her eyes.

"Hermione, don't worry. It'll all go away within five days. Madam Pomfrey said so."

Hermione pursed her lips.

"Give me a mirror," she requested.

"Hermione …"

"Give me a mirror," she repeated firmly.

Ginny looked at Harry before her hand reached into her schoolbag and took out a small mirror. Hermione took the mirror and closed her eyes for a second before she brought it up to her face.

When she opened her eyes, she regretted her decision to borrow the mirror.

She looked worse than a clown. There were countless boils all over her face and neck, each in different sizes and each boasting an obnoxiously noticeable color. Hermione swallowed the urge to scream.

"The colors might take up to a week before they disappear," Tom explained, "but they will, most likely, go away."

Most likely? _**Most likely**_? So there was a chance that she would have stains on her face for the rest of her life?

She must have had a horrified look on her face because Ginny immediately pulled her into a hug while Tom turned to the table beside the Infirmary bed and poured out a glass of water.

"It's going to be okay, Hermione. Don't worry about it," Ginny comforted.

 _Easy for you to say. You're not the one with rainbow boils on your face_ , Hermione thought bitterly.

She was not really the type of girl who spent countless hours in front of the mirror, worried about her looks. She was, nevertheless, still a girl. When she was younger, she had been ridiculed because of her buckteeth and frizzy hair more times than she cared to remember. She had been more than grateful when Madam Pomfrey had managed to shrink her teeth to normal sizes. The bushy hair was also manageable with a few well-placed spells. However, she could hardly imagine what she would do if she had to live with stains all over her face.

A glass of water appeared in front of her, bringing her out of her thoughts. She looked at Tom questioningly, astonishment flooding her still mildly fuzzy brain.

"Drinking more water would help wash out the potion," he said quietly, explaining his actions.

Hermione had no idea why he was being nice to her. Out of surprise and with a mind that was not working clearly, she took the glass out of his hands and took a sip from it.

Whoever had done this to her had better hide. They would not want to be at the receiving end of her revenge.

~-0-~

Hermione stared at the ceiling of the Infirmary. She was bored. She glanced at her schoolbag, which she had been holding on to when she fainted. It was on the chair beside the bed. If she remembered correctly, she had the book about Slytherin in it. She had forgotten to check it out with Madam Pince when she was thrown out of the library. However, apparently, the librarian was so furious with the Gryffindor causing "riots in the library" that she had overlooked the book that was in Hermione's hands.

Hermione wondered if she could take the book out and put it under her pillow without alarming Madam Pomfrey, who was washing something in the water basin behind the screen. The school nurse would have a fit if she found a patient lurking about.

BANG!

The sound of the door slamming open slightly alarmed the two occupants of the Infirmary. Hermione's eyes widened in horror as she watched two Slytherin boys and a Gryffindor girl trudge into the room. A couple of minutes later, a Slytherin girl and two Gryffindor boys entered.

Madam Pomfrey whirled around towards the door angrily.

"By Godric, what is the meaning of—" and she stopped mid-sentence.

The original look of annoyance on her face turned into one of anger and concern when she viewed the spectacle in front of her.

Two of the Gryffindor boys looked as if they were weird species from the ocean. One of them had five antennas growing on top of his head. Black, hair-like things were wiggling from his nose, brushing against skin that had somehow been transformed into something that resembled a seal's hide. The other one's hair had been Transfigured or cursed into some kind of seaweed. He was being supported by the other Gryffindor boy since his feet had somehow been turned into flippers.

One of the Slytherin boys reminded Hermione slightly of Mad-Eye Moody, with one of his eyes larger than the other one and the moonlight casting a glassy gleam over it. One of his arms was twisted at an abnormal angle and half of his hair was shaved off of his head. The other Slytherin boy had an extra arm extending out of his left armpit. It seemed that it was cursed to attack its owner since the first Slytherin boy was trying to stop it from punching him.

The Slytherin girl's hair was charmed a bright hot pink, contrasting tremendously with her skin which was glowing neon green. She was covering her mouth with her right hand, which had ten fingers, each twisting in weird directions; she was obviously trying to hide some of the other damage that had been done to her face.

Evidently, someone had tried to transfigure the Gryffindor girl into a fire hydrant but had been unsuccessful. The girl was completely red from head to shoes. Her arms were almost completely nonexistent, with only her hands extending from her torso. Her legs seemed to be glued together and Hermione suspected that the only reason she arrived earlier than the others was because she had jumped the entire way from the scene of battle to the Infirmary.

"OH, YOU—" Madam Pomfrey screeched, cutting herself off and opening her mouth a few times. She glared at each student with anger and care etched on her face. She allowed herself to breathe deeply a couple of times. "When are you lot going to _**grow up**_!"

"It was an accident, Madam Pomfrey," the Gryffindor girl replied immediately.

Hermione vaguely remembered her as Megan Jenkins, one of the younger students.

"We were doing a project and somehow it exploded on us," the Slytherin boy that reminded Hermione of Moody spoke up.

"And landed all of you with different injuries, Mr. Bulstrode?" Madam Pomfrey questioned with a look of irritation on her face.

She pulled her wand out and conjured chairs for her patients. The Gryffindors pulled their chairs nearer to Hermione's bed while the snakes moved away and gathered around one another on the other side of the room. With a huff, the Mediwitch went to the backroom, presumably to get potions for their afflictions.

"That was a stupid excuse," the young man with five antennas snorted.

"As if you could come up with something better, Weasley?" Bulstrode sneered.

Hermione stared at the young man with five antennas, finally recognizing him as the younger brother of Gareth, Galahad.

"Would you stop bickering before Madam Pomfrey yells at us again?" Megan sighed.

"Would you stop bickering before I curse you into oblivion, Jenkins?" said the Slytherin girl who was still covering her face with her hand.

"I'd like to see you try, Yaxley. You couldn't cast a proper spell even with a diagram and the professor whispering instructions in your ear," Megan hissed.

"Shh!" the Gryffindor boy who looked almost like seaweed warned, glancing at the returning Madam Pomfrey.

The door opened again, revealing Tom Riddle, elegant and handsome as usual. Hermione took one look at him and averted her eyes, remembering how he had held her hands back from ruining her face. She had been berating herself for the past few days for thinking that he had a wonderful voice, even if she _**had**_ been half unconscious.

"Good day, Madam Pomfrey," he said, a gracious smile on his face.

"Oh, Tom," she sighed, casting a glare toward the Slytherin girl who giggled at the sight of the young Dark Lord.

"I must ask for your forgiveness on behalf of my classmates," Tom said apologetically, a most genuine expression of repentance on his face.

"Oh, it wasn't your fault, Tom," Madam Pomfrey reassured him, affection written across her face.

"But I must," he said immediately. "As the Head Boy, I take it as my responsibility to look after my classmates, especially those in my own House."

Knowing who he would become in the future, it was quite clear that the glints of threat in his eyes directed towards the Slytherins were not figments of Hermione's imagination or a trick of light.

"You are such a dear, Tom. No, no! Don't worry for the least bit! Nothing I cannot fix within the hour," Madam Pomfrey said, her expression evidently softer than before. Hermione had to stop herself from snorting on the spot. "I suppose you will want to speak with your classmates as well?"

"If that is possible," he answered humbly.

He watched her until she disappeared into the backroom before rounding on his classmates. Although Hermione could not hear what he was saying to them, the intimidation beneath the false calmness he portrayed communicated more to her than words.

"What happened?" she whispered at the group of Gryffindors next to her bed.

"Well …" the three of them looked at one another, hesitant to tell her too much about what had happened lest she tell one of the professors.

Hermione huffed, "Just so you know, I'm a Gryffindor."

"We know that!" Galahad protested, looking away from her.

She narrowed her eyes.

"Gareth forbade you from telling me, didn't he?" she asked.

"It's for your own good, really," Megan grumbled. "The three of you _**are**_ new students and we can't have you ending up in the Infirmary like the rest of us every month or so."

"Every—" Hermione stopped herself mid-sentence, a bit surprised at the frequency of quarrels between the two Houses. "In case you haven't noticed, it would be even more dangerous for me to walk around without knowing what might hit me from behind!"

"Oh, they're not that stupid," Galahad dismissed what she had said with a wave of his hand. "No, they're Slytherins. They're not going to risk getting caught by the professors."

"You call this," she gestured towards their ailments with her hand, "not taking risks? Don't you think the professors are going to find out about it?"

"They know," the Gryffindor with the least injuries spoke up, "but they can't do anything as long as they don't have evidence."

"Didn't it occur to you that the Slytherins might actually set up a trap for you to get caught?" Hermione questioned.

Her question was again brushed off.

"We're careful enough."

She opened her mouth to say something, but was stopped by Tom strolling over to her bed.

"Good day, Miss Granger," he greeted her.

"Hello," she replied quietly as she sat up in her bed.

She was already bloody short standing next to him. She did not want to feel even shorter by lying down.

From the corner of her eye, she saw the Gryffindors not-too-subtly elbowing each other and looking guardedly at the interactions between her and Tom. The Slytherins on the other side of the room were casting questioning glances towards Tom and her and whispering amongst themselves. Without warning, a warm feeling worked its way up her cheeks.

Tom took out a pile of notes and handed it to her.

"These are the notes and homework for today," he explained when he saw the quizzical look on her face.

Hermione sat there looking at him disbelievingly. He came here just to give her notes? The Heir of Slytherin? The leader for pureblood supremacy? The evil Lord Voldemort? He had to be kidding her.

He raised an eyebrow at her.

"Why?" she questioned, trying to ignore the disturbing whispers of the group of Gryffindors beside her.

"You're in nearly all my classes," he answered simply.

"Oh," Hermione replied, not fully satisfied with his answer.

She felt that Tom Riddle must have some kind of hidden agenda to be nice to _**her**_ of all people.

"And I do realize how horrible it is for someone who loves to learn to miss class. I was forced to do so the first day you arrived, if you remember," he added with a faint smile.

Hermione stared at him. She knew that he appreciated intelligent people, but that he would not hesitate in killing them if they stood in his way. Still, she felt as if there was something more behind his actions.

She took the papers and immediately noticed how neat his notes were and how elegant his script was. This surprised her since Ron and Harry had always had handwriting that was easily compared to chicken scratchings, complete with rips and suspicious stains.

"There's no need to thank me," Tom replied. "A simple charm duplicated the notes I copied in class."

After he had left the Infirmary with the promise that he would bring the following days' notes and homework, Hermione lay in her bed, staring at the ceiling again. The Gryffindors were looking at her with a mixture of admiration, suspicion, and curiosity, but refused to utter another word about their injuries; it was useless for her to try to get information from them.

Her only comfort was the fact that Madam Pomfrey kept to her promise and healed them within the hour. At least she did not have to endure the hisses of speculation muttered under the Gryffindors' breaths and glances of scorn from the Slytherins.

When they left, she was finally all alone again in the Infirmary. However, she was far from bored now. She was analyzing all the possibilities of why Tom Marvolo Riddle would be kind to her, since he was not a kind person.

And that was a very frustrating endeavor.

~-0-~

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> b>A/N: Many thanks to my betas (Lildaani, Noybates, and Hajnalmadar)!


	8. Chapter 8

**Chapter 8**

After nearly a week of torture, Hermione was finally allowed to leave the Infirmary. Happy to have her face back to normal again, she found it easy to ignore the taunting laughter of the girls she met in the hallways.

To everyone's relief—Slughorn being a notable exception—there were a lot fewer squabbles in the Potions classroom. Since Tom had kept to his word and had brought her notes and homework every day, Hermione felt the need to be politer to him. Nevertheless, the nagging feeling that he might have had ulterior motives haunted her and she took extra care when she interacted with him.

Augusta Rookwood and Abraxas Malfoy proved to be more irritating than the Heir of Slytherin himself. When Augusta had seen her enter the Gryffindor common room, a sigh of disappointment had escaped her mouth. Hermione had been led to believe that she was lamenting that no marks were left on her face from the foul potion.

Abraxas, on the other hand, had taken to reenacting her fainting episode with one of the other Slytherin boys. Although she did not particularly find it embarrassing, he was still quite annoying. Additionally, he saw fit to add some sort of dialogue (something along the lines of "Please hold me, Tom!" and "If only I could be in your arms forever, Tom!") to the scene. This, of course, spawned the displeasure of Tom's fan club, which led to Hermione's inconvenience. She could hardly walk through a hallway without getting death glares from one of the female students. Once or twice, she had even received a Howler through the owl post.

Nevertheless, none of that could dampen the uplifting news of an upcoming Hogsmeade trip. It was scheduled to be the weekend before Halloween. When Dumbledore saw Harry, Ginny, and Hermione fretting about not having the proper permissions for Hogsmeade, he had informed them with twinkling eyes that they had already been sent in through owl post. Thus, the trio left Hogwarts in high spirits and with all worries behind them.

"I wonder if many things will be different," Ginny commented as they walked towards the carriages that were taking them to Hogsmeade.

From the corner of her eye, she saw Joseph and Gareth climbing onto one of them with a couple of other Gryffindors.

"I bet they will be," Harry answered as he pulled his cloak a bit closer. It was not freezing yet but the weather had turned considerably colder. "I can't wait to go to Honeydukes and Zonko's though."

"If they are open, that is," Hermione mentioned with a grin on her face.

When the three of them reached their destination, they understood that the strangeness and fun of Hogsmeade never changed much. In fact, there were a couple of other shops that apparently would be closed down in the future.

Students from Hogwarts swarmed around the streets in groups, chattering with loud excitement. Display tables laden with goods stood in front of most shops, the attending sales-witch and wizards beckoning to customers to come and browse their wares.

On the roof of Zonko's was an enormous jack o' lantern. Instead of candlelight, its eyes were charmed to wink when people gawped at it. A life-size coffin was placed in front of the joke shop, attracting many curious glances. Occasionally, a mummy or a zombie would jump out of it, scaring a handful of unsuspecting passersby.

Different candies were charmed to fly around directly above Honeydukes, forming different messages such as "Happy Halloween", "Treats are better than tricks!", and "Satisfy those tricksters … and yourself! With products from Honeydukes!" At random moments, the candies would crackle and explode, showering free samples on the people standing in front of the sweetshop.

Apparently, fortune-telling was more popular during the forties than the future. In front of many shops, witches sat behind tables with signs advertising the type of divination in which they were skilled; most, if not all, of the tables had a line of people queuing up to have their fortunes told.

"Merlin! This is even better than the one we know!" Harry exclaimed as he looked at CharmIn' Hats, a shop that had unorganized piles of hats behind the windows and signs that claimed to have hats "For Friends or Foes!"

"I do wonder why some of these shop will be closed down in the future," Hermione whispered as she, too, looked at the store of colorful hats.

"It's probably because of the reign of You-Know-Who," Harry scowled.

Hermione sighed and nodded.

"So she's still at St. Mungo's?" they suddenly heard a familiar voice ask.

They turned their heads and found Abraxas walking arm in arm with a pretty young lady with blond hair; Draco was walking next to him. Neither of them acknowledged the trio's presence. Tom strolled slightly in front of them. He turned his head just as they noticed the Slytherins and he nodded to Hermione as a greeting which she returned with a nod of her own. She was glad that Ginny and Harry were so absorbed in the conversation between Abraxas and the unknown witch that they had not noticed this little interaction.

"Yes. Nobody knows what happened to her," Abraxas drawled in a bored manner.

"At least Tom won't have to suffer her unwelcome attentions then," a good-looking young man with black hair and twinkling black eyes commented.

Abraxas smirked as he looked over at him.

"We know you're jealous of Tom, Cygnus. Just admit it," he joked.

Cygnus waved him off as if he were a mosquito, which earned a round of laughter from the rest of the people walking with them.

"Who are they talking about?" Hermione questioned.

Harry and Ginny shared a glance before looking at the witch.

"Iris Parkinson," Ginny replied. "She was found by the lake three days after you were brought to the Infirmary, but nobody knows what happened to her. She was sent to St. Mungo's the next day."

Hermione furrowed her forehead in thought as they walked further down the street.

"Let's go to the Three Broomsticks for a drink," Ginny suggested after a while.

Harry and Hermione nodded in agreement.

Miniature bats flapped around in front of the pub, forming an arch before the door whenever a potential customer got too close it. To the right of the entrance was a small table with an orange cloth draped over its surface. A miniature vampire figurine pursued what seemed like a cup of Butterbeer. Right next to the comical chase was a basketful of candies with a note in front of it:

_"Take what you must,  
And leave in goodwill._

_Shatter my trust,  
You're in for a thrill."_

The three of them eyed one another and mutually decided to refrain from taking anything out of the basket. They did not fancy discovering what "thrill" might mean.

The pub was just as crowded as they remembered. Harried waiters and waitresses bustled around the packed tables, delivering orders. Madam Rosmerta was behind the bar, seemingly unchanged from their time, leaving them to ponder the question of the lady's age. Jack o' lanterns hung from the ceilings, creating an orange haze around the room.

Harry, Ginny, and Hermione greeted the people they knew from Hogwarts as they made their way to a table that was at the end of the pub, near the windows. Luckily for Hermione, a certain Head Girl was nowhere to be seen.

With much trouble, they finally reached the table of their desire. A feeling of nostalgia washed over them as they sat in the seats they had so commonly taken in the future.

"Good day, my dears! Never saw the three of you before. What may I get for you today?" Madam Rosmerta asked when she approached the table, looking just as pretty as they remembered.

"We'd like three Butterbeers, please," Hermione ordered.

Madam Rosmerta gave her a brilliant smile as she took the order and inquired if they would like anything else, to which they politely declined.

"I wonder what Ron would say if we told him how old Madam Rosmerta might be," Harry chortled after the lady went off to bring them their drinks.

Ginny promptly giggled while Hermione felt the familiar feeling of something missing again. It was becoming more and more pronounced with each day she spent in the forties.

" _I've gotten you something_ ," Ron had said with a mischievous twinkle in his eyes and slight blush on his cheeks right before they ended up in 1944, " _but you will have to wait until Christmas_."

Had he found out that they were missing, that they had somehow traveled through time? Was he worrying about them? Or would it be like the time with the Time Turner? Would they go back to the future and end up being in Borgin and Burkes again without a second being lost?

"He'll tell you to bugger off," Ginny replied, bringing Hermione out of her reverie.

Harry laughed and she managed to smile as well.

"I really do wonder how she does that though," Hermione frowned after Madam Rosmerta brought them their drinks.

"What? You mean her looks?" Ginny asked, swallowing a mouthful of Butterbeer.

Hermione nodded as Harry shrugged.

"Are there any spells for it?" he asked.

"Yes … but they're not exactly legal," Hermione replied uneasily.

"Or she could be … well …" Ginny leaned forward, "non-human."

Harry and Hermione exchanged a look. It was quite possible for all they knew. After all, how often would they come across someone who appeared the same after so many years?

They chatted for a while longer before Ginny excused herself to go to the the ladies'.

"I'm still worried about Ginny," Harry said when she was gone from view.

Hermione grimaced. She knew he was talking about Tom cornering Ginny before their Potions classes.

"I'm still counting on Dumbledore to find a way to get us back to the future," she replied in a low voice, "although it's been nearly four weeks already."

"And there's still nothing from him," Harry added before he took a sip of his Butterbeer. He frowned. "What if the way that we were sent here was invented in the future?"

"I don't know," Hermione answered softly, a worried expression on her face. "That … that would possibly mean that we're stuck here, doesn't it?"

Harry sighed. "I hope not."

Hermione nodded in agreement.

"Any more of that rubbish and I might have to take it out on those foul Slytherins," she declared vengefully, which caused Harry to laugh.

They remained quiet for a moment before Harry looked at her carefully.

"You miss Ron, don't you?" the Boy Who Lived questioned sympathetically.

Hermione stilled for a few seconds, closing her eyes in the process as if she was trying to block out a painful memory. She opened her eyes and nodded slowly.

"I'm just glad that he doesn't have to endure You-Know-Who," she said darkly. "Ron's even more rash than we are and I could just imagine him trying to," she laughed a little, "as he always said, 'do him in' every single day."

Harry smiled before he reached out and held on to her hand.

"Don't worry, Hermione. We'll be going home soon enough," he comforted.

She smiled slightly and nodded, though she knew the chances of them returning to the future "soon" were close to none.

"What's taking Ginny so long?" She frowned, noticing the prolonged absence of the redhead.

Harry looked towards the direction of the loo.

"I don't know."

"I think I'll go check on her," Hermione stood up from her chair, followed by Harry.

"I'll go with you."

She nodded while he took out some coins given to them from Dumbledore (who reassured them that they could repay him in the future) and placed it on the table. They walked over to the loo and felt a sinking feeling in their stomach when they found the door opened.

"Ginny," Hermione called out as she looked inside.

There was no one there.

"She … where is she?" Harry questioned frantically. Hermione stood there, feeling her heartbeat speed up but having no answer for her best friend. "It's … nobody knows her. Where would she go? She would've told us if she was leaving."

Hermione looked at him.

"Let's go ask Madam Rosmerta."

They rushed to Madam Rosmerta, startling her.

"Have you seen the girl with us? The one with red hair?" Harry asked.

"I haven't seen her, no," Madam Rosmerta replied. "Did you check the ladies'?"

"Yes, but there was no one in there," Hermione answered.

With a frown, Madam Rosmerta's walked to the back and asked her employees. She came back to them, shaking her head.

"Nobody's seen her. Are you sure she didn't leave by herself?" she offered.

Hermione and Harry shared a worried look, turned, and ran out of the pub.

~-0-~

"I should've known," Harry said through gritted teeth as they walked around Hogsmeade, looking for Ginny. "I should've known that we should've been more careful about him. Even though it's nearly fifty years in the past, he's still a bloody murderer. If something happens to Gin—"

"Harry!" Hermione interrupted, her voice a higher pitch than usual. "Nothing's going to happen to Ginny. _**Nothing**_ will happen to her. She'd been through … through You-Know-Who's … she _**will**_ be alright."

Harry nodded with a nervous expression on his face.

They hurriedly checked all of the shops, asking people if they had seen Ginny. They even ran into Joseph and Gareth but they, too, had not seen her. It seemed as if Ginny had suddenly vanished from Hogsmeade, which was something Harry and Hermione did not want to think about.

Suddenly, Harry stopped in his tracks, almost causing Hermione to crash into him.

"Malfoy," Harry muttered as he pulled out his wand and quickly walked up to his former nemesis.

He looked at Draco so menacingly that Hermione gently pulled his robes, willing him not to rush to conclusions with her mind.

Draco's eyes slid from the wand that was now pointing at his throat to the dark-haired boy standing in front of him.

"What do you want?" he asked.

His association with the future Dark Lord seemed to have strengthened him. Draco was certainly a lot braver than he was when he was younger.

"Where's Ginny?" Harry snarled.

A frown appeared on Draco's face, the annoyance apparent beneath it.

"How am I supposed to know?" he asked. A smirk graced his features. "You're asking me when you've lost your girlfriend? I've told you already. I have no interest—"

"Why wouldn't you know? You're always with them," Harry cut him off scathingly, ignoring his inquiries.

"Them?" Draco inquired as he narrowed his eyes, completely oblivious to what Harry was trying to say.

"The followers of You-Know-Who," Harry replied.

A look of realization dawned on Draco's face before he sneered again.

"Are you honestly that dense, Potter?" he drawled.

Harry made a lunge for Draco but was pulled back by Hermione.

"Harry!" Hermione screeched before she turned her face towards Draco. "And it's Evans!"

Draco looked off to the side and lifted his eyebrow condescendingly as an answer.

"Don't lie to me, Malfoy—"

"It's Malloy!" Hermione hissed as she looked around to see if anyone had noticed the slip.

"I know he took Ginny. No one else would have any reason to kidnap her," Harry continued, breathing heavily.

"Or any desire to," Draco jeered. "After a few minutes spent in her company, whoever took her would beg you to take her back."

Harry cursed and made another move towards him but was kept back by Hermione.

"Malloy!" she reprimanded.

Draco looked at the pair of them impatiently while he crossed his arms and tapped his foot.

"Think before you act, Pot-Evans. I've only been here for less than a month. Do you honestly think that they trust me enough to tell me anything important? Abraxas is the only one who actually treats me somewhat like a friend. The others could care less about what happens to me. They still believe that I'm _**your friend**_ ," he finally answered, saying the last two words in a mocking manner.

The two Gryffindors looked at one another. They could tell that Draco was not lying. However, where could they go to find Ginny now?

"However, I do know that they were planning something," Draco drawled. "I don't know what they were planning, of course, as I have just told you, and I don't know when they plan to do whatever they wanted to do. They've held meetings in the common room for a few nights already and we, as in the people who were not part of their group, were not allowed to be in the common room after eleven."

Harry and Hermione shared another uneasy glance at one another.

"I have to go look for her," Harry declared as he turned around and looked toward the road they had not explored yet. He looked back at Hermione. "Hermione, you have to go back to Hogwarts and tell Dumbledore about Ginny being missing."

"I'm going with you," she spoke up stubbornly.

"Hermi—"

"You're not going alone. How many times do I have to remind you that you're not leaving me somewhere and go charging off after danger by yourself?"

Harry's features softened.

"How touching," Draco mocked from the side, which was ignored by Hermione and Harry.

"Thanks, Hermione," Harry said softly.

"Don't be stupid," Hermione chided, moving to continue the search for Ginny. "Ginny's my friend, too, you know?"

~-0-~

Ginny struggled against her captors but the two of them were too strong for her to break free.

They had captured her when they were at the Three Broomsticks and had Apparated with her to somewhere she did not recognize. They then led her off into the forest that she soon recognized was the Forbidden Forest. When they reached an area where the trees completely blocked the sunlight, they threw her on the ground.

She glared at her captors before looking around her. The familiar feeling of fear and anxiety welled up in her chest as she looked at the young man in front of her.

~-0-~

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> b>A/N:Many thanks to my betas, Lildaani, Noybate, and Hajnalmadar!


	9. Chapter 9

**Chapter 9**

As they covered more area in Hogsmeade, Harry gradually became more anxious.

"Harry, you have to keep a clear head," Hermione warned as they traveled into a small alley that led to the outskirts of Hogsmeade.

"It's been nearly two hours already," he muttered to himself, eyes darting towards any signs of movement.

She furrowed her eyebrows, not knowing how to calm him down. They traveled further and further away from Hogsmeade until Hermione pulled Harry back.

"Harry, that's the Forbidden Forest," she cautioned.

He looked towards the forest and frowned as well.

"We might as well try it," he said boldly as he headed towards the forest.

A few moments later, they found Ginny lying on the forest floor. A sense of relief and fear washed through Hermione at the same time.

"Ginny," Harry whispered.

He immediately ran up to her and knelt down beside her, followed closely by Hermione. Ginny's face was extremely pale and her lips had a bluish tinge.

"Ginny … Ginny …" Harry continued whispering, not daring to shake her lest it worsened her condition.

Hermione ran over and checked the girl's pulse.

"We have to get her back to Hogwarts as soon as possible," she advised quickly with a worried expression.

Harry tenderly lifted Ginny.

When they returned to Hogwarts, they immediately ran up to the Infirmary. Madam Pomfrey looked up from her patient, momentarily stunned by the disturbance Harry and Hermione had caused. When she saw Ginny, however, her expression changed to one of worry.

"What happened to her?" she asked.

The franticness of her voice, luckily, did not extend to her skills as she quickly and calmly checked Ginny's condition. She then hurried to the cabinet and started to pull out different bottles of potions as quickly as she could.

"We don't know," Harry answered as fast as he could. "We found her in the middle of the Forbidden Forest. She was lying on the forest floor."

"Do you know why she was there?" Madam Pomfrey questioned as she poured different amounts of potions into a goblet.

The two Gryffindors were a bit concerned to see her hands slightly shaking at this point.

"No," Hermione shook her head. "She disappeared about two hours ago—"

Madam Pomfrey looked up sharply

"—and we didn't find her until twenty minutes ago."

The frown on Madam Pomfrey's forehead deepened as she continued to pour more potions into the goblet.

"I hope this will work," she uttered in a low voice.

Hermione's eyes widened as Harry rushed over to Madam Pomfrey's side.

"Ma … Madam Pomfrey … what … you … Ginny …" he stuttered.

Madam Pomfrey pursed her lips together as she concentrated on the potion without answering him.

"I'm just wondering who would use such awful magic on her," she suddenly commented after a moment of silence.

Harry and Hermione looked at her.

"I'd thought that Miss Granger's boils would be the worst condition I'd be seeing this year. If my diagnosis is correct, the Dark Magic that was used on Miss Weatherby had to be administered by someone with great power and knowledge. I'm not even sure if Miss Weatherby can make it past Wednesday."

Both Hermione and Harry blanched at this information.

"But … but you have to … you have to save her, Madam Pomfrey," Harry pleaded.

Madam Pomfrey finally gave him a look of sympathy.

"I'll try my best. If there is no change in her condition, we will probably have to send her to St. Mungo's," she replied with a sigh as she returned to Ginny and, instead of feeding the redhead the medicine, used her wand to cast a mist over the redhead's body.

Harry grabbed Ginny's hand and held on to it.

Hermione took a hard look at Ginny and slammed her fist on the table next to the bed. Harry remained unshaken, his eyes trained on the young woman lying in front of him.

"This was not supposed to happen. This was _**not**_ supposed to happen," Hermione repeated to herself as tears threatened to spill down her cheeks.

She resolutely walked towards the door before she was pulled back by Harry.

"Where are you going?" Harry asked, his eyes slightly glistening from unshed tears.

"I'm going to … I'm going to …" The words got lost in her mouth as she closed her eyes.

She threw herself in the nearest chair out of frustration and opened her eyes, trying hard to fight back tears. Both of her hands were rolled into fists and her eyes landed on Ginny. She gritted her teeth to stop herself from running straight to the Great Hall to hex Tom. There were no doubts in her mind that he was the one who had done this to Ginny.

Harry closed his eyes and leaned against the wall, a haggard expression on his face. His shoulders were slumped in defeat. He inhaled loudly, as if even breathing was a difficult feat for him. The frown on his forehead deepened with each passing second.

Silence surrounded them, heightening their anxiety and helplessness. The steady breathing coming from the direction of the motionless redhead was the only thing that gave them hope that there was still a chance that Ginny would smile at them once again. At the same time, it also alerted them to the fact that they had accidentally stepped into an unmapped territory, one that was filled with unknown dangers.

Madam Pomfrey hurried around the room, occasionally checking on Ginny to make sure that Ginny's condition hadn't changed. Harry and Hermione remained where they were, absorbed in their own thoughts.

"You … you can't let yourself get hurt, too, Hermione," Harry quietly said, breaking the silence and bringing Hermione out of the seemingly safe haven of her mind.

She bit her lower lip, a promise right at the tip of her tongue, but something stopped her from saying it out loud. Waves of feelings threatened to overwhelm her, intimidating her and stripping her of her feeling of security. She wanted to lock herself up, away from those emotions, away from all the fears, away from all the threats that surrounded them, and stay in the peaceful haven in her mind. If only she could be sure that _**he**_ didn't have the key; if _**only**_ she could be sure that Tom Marvolo Riddle was not yet skilled in Legilimency.

The feelings of shame, disgust, and regret joined the other emotions when she recalled how she had felt gratitude towards the monster who was sitting, unscathed, in the Great Hall.

"I …" Hermione closed her eyes, shaking her head. "I have to keep reminding myself … who he is … It's just so … hard when he's acting so … _**normal**_ … and when he looks like _**that**_."

Harry remained quiet, swallowing and digesting her words slowly and thoroughly.

"He's very convincing," he finally commented, placing a hand on the end table beside him to support himself. It was almost as if he had suddenly aged ten years within the last thirty minutes. "I don't … I don't want anything to happen to you as well, Hermione. Ginny … Ginny …"

Hermione's eyes flew open and she declared with a voice stronger than how she felt, "She's going to be alright." She looked out of the window and narrowed her eyes. "She's going to be alright. Nothing will happen to her. In a couple of days, she will be the Ginny we knew again. She's going to be giggling while we tell her jokes she missed and …"

Her voice trailed off, remembering that she had all her classes with Tom Riddle.

How was she going to face him?

How could she sit down in the same classroom with him and stop herself from cursing the Heir of Slytherin right then and there?

One of her best friends was lying in the hospital wing with Death waiting just around the corner with his scythe, ready to snatch Ginny's life away and all she could do was _**nothing**_.

She wanted to curse the professors for letting this happen to someone as innocent as Ginny. She wanted to travel through time, find Slytherin, and get rid of him before his descendant could be born. She wanted to shake the awful man who left Merope Gaunt, leaving her to die in heartbreak without a chance to teach her son how to love someone. She wanted to hex the person who sent them back to a time where they were so unbelievably … _**helpless**_.

And _**vulnerable**_.

"Yes ... in a couple of days," Harry murmured, breaking her train of thought. His eyes were fixed on Ginny, as if she was all he could see.

"We'll have to stick together," Hermione reminded him, a frown settling on her forehead and the wheels of her mind turning. "We can't let him catch us alone again or one of us might end up … here."

He clenched his jaw and nodded, his eyes noticeably dimming as he continued to look at Ginny.

"I never thought he would … do something like this with Dumbledore around. With Dumbledore _**watching**_ him," he whispered.

Hermione closed her eyes again, heaving a sigh and leaning into the chair she was sitting in.

"He opened the … You-Know-What … I don't think he really cares if Dumbledore's keeping an eye on him or not," she deduced bitterly. "As long as he doesn't get caught in the act, that is."

Harry laughed humorlessly.

"Then I guess I should start searching for a suitable graveyard for us, shouldn't I?" he concluded before a string of curses escaped from his mouth and he buried his face into his hands.

~-0-~

Taking a deep breath, Hermione walked into the Muggle Studies classroom. In the other classes, she did not have to sit anywhere near the Heir of Slytherin, saving both of them a lot of drama. In this class, however …

Her eyes skimmed across the room, trying to find a potentially available seat. She knew there was a seat up near the front of the room, but that was dreadfully close to where Augusta was sitting and Hermione had no desire to listen to snide remarks throughout the entire lecture.

With heavy footsteps, she made her way toward her usual seat. She piled up her textbooks in front of her, hoping that it would lower the chances of seeing or being noticed by the Head Boy. Unfortunately, even though she could pretend to not see Tom, the same could not be said for him.

"Good day, Miss Granger," he greeted her, sitting down directly in front of her.

Abraxas slouched into the chair beside him, casting a condescending look towards her as he did so.

"Hello," she answered rather stiffly, trying hard to push the image of Ginny lying in the Infirmary bed out of her mind and ignoring the blond.

"I hope Miss Weatherby is doing well," Tom remarked, his eyes sweeping over her face and taking in her expressions.

_Lies …_

Her hands tightened their grip around her textbook as she imagined stuffing it down Tom's throat. At least Abraxas had better sense than to defy his Lord too many times in a month by speaking out of turn, so she did not have to put up with him.

"I hope so, too," she replied, willing the frost on her face to melt and her expression to soften.

"I'm sure she'll recover soon enough," he continued, a look of sympathy on his angelic face. "Although I haven't known her for a long time, I do think that she is a wonderful girl and definitely not a person who should be inflicted with ill fortune. Certainly destiny could not be so cruel as to permanently harm someone who is so sweet and kind."

"I'm pretty sure she will get better. She's quite a strong-willed girl and I don't think she will break down any time soon," she answered through gritted teeth, mentally throwing hexes at the part of her mind that wanted to believe in his innocence.

The sincerity of his tone was so convincing that at times, she found herself believing his words, much to her dismay. It made her fully realize just how easy it was to fall prey to a beautiful serpent.

_Deception …_

She was reminded again of the time when she actually almost believed in him. The feeling of betrayal churned and swirled in her body, boiling her blood and rushing through her veins. Even though she had braced herself for the possibility that there was something behind his veneer of kindness, _**it still stung**_.

With that thought in mind, she mentally built up more walls, hiding behind them and securing away any unwanted emotions she might garner for the graceful snake sitting right in front of her.

He was scrutinizing her again, undoubtedly searching for signs that would give him answers he wished to know. This slightly comforted Hermione, giving her hope that he might not possess the ability to probe a person's mind yet. She was pretty sure that the four of them would have been hogtied and carried down to the Chamber of Secrets by his Death Eaters if he had already learned that they were from the future.

_Pretense …_

"Please send my regards to Mr. Evans. If there's anything I can do for Miss Weatherby, please do not hesitate in telling me," Tom said, a smile appearing on his face just as Professor Walker entered the classroom.

Hermione managed to plaster a smile on her face as she peered into his eyes before he turned around to face the front of the room. The picture replayed itself in her mind, displaying the same scene to her over and over again and sending a chill down her spine. Although the smile softened his features and lit up his face, it never traveled to the windows of his soul.

She realized that he was never truly concerned about Ginny at all.

_His mocking eyes_ …

The care he had shown to the girl had simply been an act.

~-0-~

A few days later, when Hermione and Harry arrived at the Infirmary again to visit Ginny, Madam Pomfrey looked up from the patient she was currently treating and gave them a small smile.

"Miss Weatherby seems to be improving," she announced as the two Gryffindors approached the redhead still unconscious on the bed.

"Is she?" Hermione asked as the two of them whipped their heads around to look at her.

She nodded with a frown. "I don't know how that could be happening though. I haven't treated her with any new potions but her condition does shows signs of improvement," she replied as a faint smile appeared on her face again. "Perhaps she's just lucky."

Hermione and Harry looked at one another.

"I don't get it," Harry whispered to Hermione when Madam Pomfrey went to the back room to wash out her utensils.

"Me neither," Hermione answered. She shook her head. "Whatever happens, we can't let our guards down."

"Right," Harry nodded in agreement.

Hermione narrowed her eyes. This was proving to be a harder battle to win against Lord Voldemort than the one in the future. She would have to find a time to ask Dumbledore about his progress in searching for information about their time traveling. The sooner they returned to the future, the better.

~-0-~

Tom paced around in front of the fireplace with a frown on his forehead. He was very aggravated at the moment.

For the past few days, Hermione and Harry were always together. There was not a second they were separate from one another, except when they were in classes. They were obviously trying to avoid being caught alone.

What aggravated him even more was the fact that he had been making progress on his relationship with the little lioness—they had actually become _**civilized**_ towards one another. That was, until the redhead had been injured. Now, he had to start from the starting point _**again**_.

Flames erupted in the fireplace, silencing the people in the common room. It took a moment for them to realize that it was not the work of house elves that had lit the fire. Some of them glanced uneasily at one another, not knowing what to do. They had not seen him this angry for a long time, but Tom was quite indifferent about what they were thinking.

Things were not working the way he wanted. He was getting nowhere and Lord Voldemort did not like _**not**_ being in control. Since the day he came to Hogwarts, everyone in the school, except for a few Gryffindors, was charmed by him. Now he was being thwarted and it was just a group of newcomers. He looked away from the fireplace. They forcing him to change his tactics.

He narrowed his eyes and looked around the room.

"Abraxas."

The blond looked up before nodding towards Tom.

"I need to talk with your friend."

~-0-~

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **A/N** : Many thanks to my betas, Lildaani, Noybate, and Hajnalmadar!


	10. Chapter 10

**Chapter 10**

To Hermione and Harry's relief, Ginny's health seemed to be steadily improving. Madam Pomfrey had assured them that she would not have to be sent to St. Mungo's if conditions continued the way they were.

Tom was still as polite as ever, but strangely enough, it was merely limited to a nod of acknowledgement or a friendly "Hello" in passing. It seemed as though he had lost interest in them—or so Hermione and Harry had hoped until Harry caught him sending a dark look their way one day. They quickly realized that he was probably trying to lure them into a false sense of security, though the reason was a mystery to them. For this reason, they started being much more cautious around Tom, wary of what they might unconsciously reveal to him.

For once in her life, Hermione felt irritated about her intelligence. Because she had more classes, it meant that she had to face Tom more than Harry. All would have been well if she could have ignored him, but it was quite hard to pretend he was not there when he answered more than half of the questions in class.

Potions class unofficially turned into a battleground between the lioness and the serpent. Due to the attack on Ginny, all of Hermione's civility towards Tom had been placed under a Full Body Bind and Banished to some unknown land.

Personally, Harry felt that she was simply trying to release her anger somewhere, since it was unwise for them to hex Riddle. With that in mind, it was hard for him not to worry about what might happen in the future.

 _ **Hermione's**_ future.

In contrast, Slughorn was delighted to see the outbursts between Hermione and Tom. He would look at the match between the two of them with glowing eyes and hands rubbing together, almost as if he was watching the Quidditch World Cup.

"Fairy tears should not be used in memory potions! The outcome would cause the drinker to have side effects!" Hermione argued.

"The question is _**not**_ whether it would have side effects or not. The matter at hand is the fact that fairy tears can make highly efficient potions that can reverse the effects of the strongest Memory-modifying Charms," Tom replied, his eyes narrowed.

"It is a matter of _**morality**_. Fairy tears are known to cause permanent loss of certain senses to the body. The Ministry can't just pass a law because it _**might**_ help them in obtaining information from prisoners," the witch said.

Her cheeks were slightly flushed and she was sitting near the edge of her chair, her concentration completely on Tom, who was sitting five tables away from her.

"If it could be used to obtain useful information, then I don't see why not," Tom shrugged nonchalantly as he leaned back into the chair he was sitting in.

"That … that's a total disregard for people!" Hermione cried, outraged.

"Wizards and witches who Obliviate themselves are most likely people who want to conceal their secrets," Tom said. His voice was soft, but oddly, everyone in the room could hear his words clearly. "Secrets, that they do not want people to know."

He stared at the two time travelers so pointedly that Harry felt as if he had just been doused by a bucketful of ice cold water. Hermione, on the other hand, seemed to be completely unaffected by that look.

"That's outrageous! They could've been Obliviated by someone else. It could've been an accident. Why should they be force fed harmful potions if there's a possibility that they might be innocent?" she asked. "If the Ministry passes the law, there's bound to be people who would use fairy tears for their own immoral uses."

Tom opened his mouth, presumably to argue back, but was cut off by Slughorn, who clapped his hands together. Tom threw one more glance at them before settling his eyes on Slughorn.

"Wonderful points, Tom, Hermione," Slughorn complimented. "However, class did end ten minutes ago, so shall we finish this debate some other time? Good! Now, don't leave yet, children! For homework tomorrow..."

"You're going to get yourself murdered, Hermione," Harry muttered under his breath.

"It's only a classroom debate. I don't see why he would possibly _**murder**_ me for something as minuscule as this," she huffed, packing up her stuff.

"Did you actually see how he was looking at us?" Harry hissed.

"Of course, but we knew that he wanted to know what we're hiding from him," she replied, swinging her bag over her shoulders and walking out of the classroom with Harry right behind her. "He's known for killing people who stood in his way towards world domination, not people who debated with him about fairy tears, Harry."

Harry opened his mouth to say something, but closed it again, furrowing his eyebrows in frustration as they walked towards the hospital wing.

Before she opened the door to the Infirmary, she sighed and gave Harry a small smile.

"Don't worry, Harry. We're in this together and we're going to get through this together. We won't let this happen to Ginny or any one of us again. It's _**not**_ going to happen again."

He returned her smile and nodded firmly.

"Right, then," he vowed. "No one else is going to get hurt."

After a short visit to Ginny, they went down to the Great Hall for dinner.

"Hello," Gareth and Joseph greeted them as they sat down at the Gryffindor table.

"Hi," the two of them chorused.

"How's Ginny doing?" Joseph asked as he spooned some mash potatoes into his dish.

"She seems to be improving," Hermione replied with a sigh.

"I really wonder who would do something like that to Ginny," Gareth commented, shaking his head slightly. "I wonder who would do that to anyone."

"I'm not really surprised, Gareth. Remember what happened to Myrtle?" Joseph questioned. "We never knew how she died."

Harry and Hermione's ears perked up at the mention of someone they knew.

"Didn't they say that it was Hagrid already? If it wasn't him, why would they expel him?"

"I told you. I knew him well enough. And it was Riddle's words against his. Who would've believed Hagrid?" Joseph pointed out.

"That's exactly the point!" Gareth exclaimed.

"No, that's _**not**_ the point, Gareth. Hagrid might be a bit clumsy and have a … er … strange affection for terrifying creatures—"

Harry snorted which earned glances from the two young men

"—but he's not the type of person who would send monsters after students, let alone Muggle-borns. Did you notice how Professor Dumbledore kept an eye on Riddle even more after Myrtle's death? I personally believe," Joseph looked around before he continued in a whisper, "that Riddle was the one who was responsible for her death. I would bet my hat that Hagrid had nothing to do with it. He hardly even knew the girl."

Hermione and Harry shared a look with one another, quite surprised but relieved that there were people who did not buy into Tom's pretense.

"That's … quite true." Gareth nodded slowly, furrowing his eyebrows. "Myrtle did sort of annoy Tom throughout the first few years here."

Hermione cleared her throat, catching their attention before she asked, "What's this about Myrtle? And who's Hagrid?"

They then went into detail about Myrtle's death and how Hagrid had been caught and expelled.

"Hagrid was the one who set the monsters on students?" Harry asked, his eyes flashing angrily.

Perhaps the two young men thought that he was angry about the crime and so did not question it. However, Hermione knew that Harry was merely angry because Hagrid had been blamed for a crime Tom had committed.

"Oh, that's what Riddle said," Joseph answered, waving his hand as if dismissing something ludicrous.

"Myrtle was friends with him?" Hermione inquired.

"I wouldn't say friends," Gareth replied. "Myrtle was quite attracted to Tom actually. Her eyes would glow and her cheeks would flush red. You could even say that she was the extreme version of Tom's admirers."

"I wouldn't say that she was worse than Parkinson though," Joseph contradicted.

"True. She would purposely try to get into every class Tom was in," Gareth continued, "which wasn't too hard for her. She was a Ravenclaw, you see."

"Every other sentence from her would include the word 'Tom'." Joseph grimaced. "That's when I started to appreciate the intelligence of Ravenclaws, because blimey, how could you think and talk about a bloke for the whole day AND get spectacular grades?"

Despite of their currently solemn mood, Hermione and Harry could not help but start laughing at that assessment.

"Which brings it back to why I think Tom could be innocent," Gareth said. "Tom was always kind to Myrtle when she bothered him with schoolwork. I mean, it was pretty obvious that she already knew the answers to the questions she was asking him."

"Well, he might've gotten tired of it by fifth year," Joseph suggested. Suddenly, he grinned and leaned towards the two time travelers. "Did you know that Myrtle's still here?"

Hermione raised an eyebrow at him and glanced at Harry, who was trying to hold in a laugh.

"No, really?" she replied as she spooned some corn into her dish. "She turned into a ghost?"

Joseph nodded excitedly.

"Precisely," he announced importantly. "And she haunts the girls' toilet. Well, she haunted Olive Hornby first, but the Ministry threw her back here." He wiggled his eyebrow at Hermione. "Are you interested in meeting her?"

Hermione shot him a look of annoyance which caused roars of laughter from both him and Gareth.

"I do miss Hagrid though," Harry said in a low voice, on their way back to the Gryffindor tower.

Hermione sighed. "But you have to understand, Harry. We can't go see him. What if he recognizes us in the future?"

"I'm not saying that we should go befriend him or anything," Harry answered quickly. "I'm just saying ... perhaps we can just look at him and tell him across the field or something, so he won't recognize us in the future, that we believe that it wasn't him who killed Myrtle."

"Excellent idea, Harry. I'm sure Riddle wouldn't hear us if we shouted _**that**_ across the field," Hermione rolled her eyes.

A pinkish tinge appeared on Harry's cheeks. "Right," he mumbled, scratching the back of his head sheepishly. He then frowned. "But what about your name? Wouldn't professors in the future remember your last name? And Slughorn—he basically invited you to the Slug Club already. He just didn't say it out loud yet, that's all. Why didn't he recognize you in the future? And Augusta Longbottom … Rookwood … er … Neville's grandmother, she's practically ready to whip out her wand and hex you."

"Well, I wouldn't exactly tell a person 'Hey, look. I was ready to pull out my wand and make sure you lie in the Infirmary for the next millenium fifty years ago' if she's helping my grandson," Hermione started slowly. "Perhaps we'll manage to resolve our differences?"

"Wishful thinking, Hermione."

"Yes, but I won't really know until we get a chance to speak to Neville's grandmother now, will I?"

"Right," Harry nodded. "What about Slughorn then?"

A puzzled expression appeared on Hermione's face. "Yes, I suppose it is kind of strange that he didn't remember me in the future." She laughed. "Perhaps Dumbledore Obliviated him?"

Harry chuckled. "It wouldn't be the first time Dumbledore followed the Ministry rules loosely."

"In regards to the other professors … well, the only staff members that are the same are Madam Pomfrey and Madam Pince …" she trailed off. "Now that I think about it, I think Madam Pomfrey mentioned that I reminded her of a patient she once had."

Harry raised an eyebrow, "When did that happen?"

"Remember back in second year? When I took the Polyjuice Potion with cat's hair?" she asked. He nodded. "Madam Pomfrey mentioned a young lady," she snorted, "who had certain disregard for rules like I do." She frowned. "She is a rather discreet person, though. So perhaps Dumbledore actually told her to keep it a secret?"

"Maybe," Harry shrugged. "What about Madam Pince? I'm sure nobody would forget the bookworm of the year too soon."

"Oh shush, Harry. I'm not the only person who likes to read," Hermione chided, though her cheeks turned a rosy pink. She raised her eyebrows. "I actually wouldn't be too surprised if senility was creeping up on our Madam Pince."

Harry laughed. "But she never forgot to look after her books."

"And she never will," Hermione said airily. After a few minutes of silence, she spoke again, "I wonder what happened to Malloy."

"What about him?" Harry asked as he flicked some dust off of his robes.

"He wasn't at dinner," Hermione answered. "Abraxas was missing, too."

Harry shrugged. "I doubt something happened," he remarked. "I mean, they're both Slytherins." In a lower voice, he added, "And Abraxas Malfoy was one of the first ones to follow You-Know-Who. You've told me before that time cannot be changed. Even though we weren't sent back by a Time Turner, I think that still holds true, which means that You-Know-Who's not going to kill him."

"No, he's not," Hermione admitted, "but Malloy's the one who's going to be in danger."

"You're not planning on going to the Slytherin common room, are you?" he questioned.

Hermione looked at him meaningfully.

He shook his head. "Hermione…"

"Harry, the four of us came here together. We have the responsibility to look after one another," she reasoned.

"He told us to bugger off," Harry grumbled.

"We've been at each other's _**necks**_ since first-year. Of course he's going to say something like that. Be reasonable, Harry," Hermione scolded lightly as she walked towards the stairs. "Which way is it?"

"What?" he asked, looking at her with a confused expression.

"The Slytherin common room, Harry," Hermione explained with a sigh.

Harry sighed as well and shook his head in defeat before he led her to the dungeons.

When they reached the Slytherin common room, they finally remembered another problem – they did not know the password.

"I guess we will have to wait for someone to come out then?" Harry asked with his eyebrow raised.

Hermione frowned as she stared at the wall. "I'm just worried about Malloy. I mean..."

"I know, Hermione," Harry replied. With a bad imitation of her voice, he said, "He's all alone in Slytherin. At least the three of us are together."

Hermione laughed and punched him on the shoulder.

All of a sudden, the pathway to the Slytherin common room opened and a handsome young man with black hair walked out. He stopped and looked at the two of them, curiosity written all over his face. They recognized that he was the "Black" that they suspected to be Alphard.

"You two are the newcomers," he stated. Harry and Hermione nodded. He held out his hand to them. "Black. Alphard Black."

"Nice to meet you!" the two of them greeted him.

Harry's eyes were glowing. He had been correct. The young man _**was**_ Sirius's uncle.

"What brings the two of you down to this gloomy place?" Alphard asked, gesturing towards the common room.

"Well...we're here to look for Ma—Draco," Hermione corrected herself.

She assumed that she would have to act like a friend of Draco's or else it would be weird for her or Harry to come looking for him.

Alphard frowned, "I haven't seen him today."

Harry and Hermione stared at him.

"Then again, I haven't seen Abraxas either. I mean, they're pretty hard to miss with that white-blond hair, aren't they? Two lanterns in a distance, connected at the shoulders."

The two Gryffindors laughed lightly.

"Good evening, Alphard," they suddenly heard a voice behind them.

Harry and Hermione both felt a sense of unease when they saw Tom walking towards the Slytherin common room with a group of his followers.

"Good evening," Alphard replied impassively.

Hermione and Harry looked back at him and at that moment, they realized that he was not too fond of Tom either.

Tom looked at Harry and Hermione with what seemed like mild interest. However, it did not escape Hermione's attention that there was a hint of a smirk on his lips.

"Good evening. Why are you here, if I may ask?" he asked courteously.

The two of them exchanged a look, not knowing what to say. One wrong word could mean a torturous night for Draco.

"They're looking for me," Alphard suddenly declared, surprising everyone at the scene.

Suspicion appeared on Tom's face as he turned his attention to him. "For you?" he questioned, frowning.

"That wouldn't be a problem, would it, Tom?" Alphard asked with a false smile plastered on his face.

"Of course not," Tom answered, regaining his composure. "If you'll excuse us, we still have some matters to discuss."

He swiftly walked into the common room with his followers, many of whom sneered at the two Gryffindors while they were passing them.

When the wall sealed up behind them, Alphard bowed toward it, as one would to a king, which earned a round of laughter from the two time travelers. He straightened up and beamed at them. He then led them away from the common room.

"You're not too friendly with Riddle," Harry remarked as they climbed up the stairs.

Alphard shrugged.

"He's just not someone I could get close to. A bit too ... fake, shall I say?" he commented.

He opened the door to a classroom, stuck his head inside, and motioned for them to go in with him. He closed the door behind him and waved his wand to lit the candles in the room.

"Fake?" Hermione asked.

Alphard looked at her suspiciously.

"I thought … you're not friends—" his voice a little distant.

"No, no! That's not what I meant," Hermione explained immediately. "I was just curious what made you think that way? We have our reasons but we weren't sure about you."

Alphard shrugged and sat on one of the tables.

Harry looked at Hermione and nodded. He knew they could trust Alphard since he was the one who gave Sirius money when he ran away from Grimmauld Place.

"We suspect that he was the one who harmed our friend, Ginny," Harry quietly said.

Alphard looked at him surprised.

"Aren't you afraid that I might ... tell Riddle?" he questioned, a bit flustered that they would entrust him with the information.

"I think we can trust you," Harry smiled.

Alphard chuckled.

"That means a lot to me. It's not everyday Gryffindors would give their trust to a Slytherin." A face of disgust appeared on his face at the mention of his House.

"I thought Gryffindors and Slytherins were on pretty good terms with one another," Harry frowned.

"We might be civil to one another, but that's because we don't want to get in trouble with the professors. You three are newcomers so the conflict isn't so clear to you. Wait till you're here for another month or so. Then you'll start to understand the true extent of the strain between the two Houses." Alphard laughed as he studied his nails.

The image of the injured Gryffindors and Slytherins came to Hermione's mind. She had completely forgotten to mention that to Harry. She had not heard about any other duels between the members of the two Houses but apparently, they were still secretly battling with one another. She grimaced, wondering if there was already a set schedule between the two Houses in regards to when and where to battle.

"You don't like being in Slytherin?" Harry asked, breaking Hermione's train of thought.

Alphard shrugged. "My family wanted me to be in here. I've never had any contact with other Houses before I came to Hogwarts. When I put on the Sorting Hat, it started babbling about Ravenclaw and Slytherin. I asked it to put me in Slytherin so I wouldn't get in trouble with my parents," he explained nonchalantly. He shook his head as if he was trying to shake away the memory. "Anyway, you were looking for Malloy."

The two Gryffindors nodded.

Alphard frowned slightly. "I'm surprised you're friends with him. He's very chummy with Abraxas."

Hermione and Harry looked at one another.

"Well, we're not exactly close to him," she replied slowly. "It's just that we've came from the same place so we—Harry, Ginny, and I—thought that it would be better for the four of us to stick together."

Alphard nodded while he stood up and straightened out his robes.

"Come on," he said, nodding towards the door. "I'll go ask Cygnus for you two. He's usually quite good chums with Abraxas."

"But wouldn't he tell Riddle?" Hermione asked as they walked towards the dungeons once more.

"I'll make him not tell," he smirked.

When they reached the Slytherin common room, he instructed them to wait outside while he went inside to look for his brother.

"He seems like a nice person," Hermione remarked to Harry as they stood outside in the hallway waiting for Sirius's uncle.

"Well, he was the uncle who gave Sirius money," Harry explained. "I guess he's almost like Sirius."

Hermione smiled sadly. "You're thinking about Sirius, aren't you?" she questioned.

Harry sighed and smiled sadly. "I'm thinking of it this way. At least Sirius isn't born yet."

Hermione gave him a small smile before pulling him into a hug.

A few minutes later, Alphard came out with a frown on his face. "I asked Cygnus, but he wouldn't answer me. One of the other Slytherins said that he'd seen Malloy and Abraxas near the second floor this morning."

"Thanks," Harry answered gratefully. "So ... I guess we'll see you in class tomorrow?"

"Alright then. Good luck in finding Malloy. If he comes back here, I'll tell him you were looking for him."

"Thanks." Hermione smiled.

After bidding one another good-bye, Harry and Hermione made their way toward the stairways.

"Why would he be on the second floor?" Hermione frowned.

"He might be looking for Myrtle," Harry suggested.

When they arrived at Myrtle's lavatory, Hermione gently opened the door and they heard whispers from inside.

"Who's there?" a familiar blond stepped out from the shadows and pointed his wand at Hermione and Harry. A sneer appeared on his face when he saw the two of them. "What are you doing here?"

"The real question would be what are _**you**_ doing here, Malfoy," Harry retorted. "This is a _**girl's**_ bathroom."

"The same thing could be said to you, Evans," Abraxas said with his eyes narrowed.

Another face appeared and looked at the two of them.

"Ma—Draco," Hermione greeted him nervously.

Draco looked at her for a minute before he nodded his head in greeting.

Hermione took a deep breath and admitted, "We were worried about you."

He looked at the two of them, momentarily surprised. "Oh ..."

"You weren't in classes and we didn't see you in the Great Hall," Hermione explained.

A look of understanding appeared on his face. "I'm alright," he mumbled before he walked back into the shadows.

"Wait!" Hermione called out.

He stopped in his tracks but did not turn his head.

"Can we talk to you in private?" Hermione asked.

Abraxas looked at the two of them suspiciously as Draco mulled over it.

"Just for a few minutes?" she added.

The young man turned around and looked at the two of them thoughtfully before he finally nodded.

~-0-~

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **A/N** : Many thanks to my beta, Lildaani, Noybate, matterhorn, and Hajnalmadar!


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Disclaimer** : Names that you don't recognize, I've made up through the help of online lists of surnames and names. The names are, in no way, intended to ridicule others with the same name (although I did do an online search and nothing came up). Nevertheless, if you have that name or know someone by that name, I didn't know about it so I'm not talking about you (or him). The spells were created by the usage of an online English to Latin translator and me, tweaking the words.
> 
> ~-0-~

**Chapter 11**

The desks inside the classroom were in disarray. The parchments on the teacher's lectern looked as if they would crumble to dust if someone touched them, boasting the number of years they had stayed in the room. The liquid inside the inkwell had long since dried, leaving a rock-hard condensation at the bottom of the bottle.

Hermione wondered idly why there were so many classrooms in the castle. Most of them, like this one, were never used. She had no doubts that the last time it was used, Hogwarts had just begun taking in students.

The house-elves, nevertheless, managed to keep the place clean, though perhaps not to the standards of the classrooms that were in use.

Her eyes settled on Harry and Draco, who were standing as far away from one another as possible. With a sigh, she gazed out of the window, wishing that everything was just a horrible nightmare that she would wake up from soon.

"Well?" Draco suddenly spoke up.

She looked towards him, startled.

He drew in a breath impatiently. "Are you ever going to tell me why you've pulled me in here?"

"We ... just wanted to know how everything is between you and Riddle," Hermione explained, a blush staining her cheeks.

"Lovely. Just like a walk in the gardens," he answered mockingly.

"Malloy," Harry growled, making Draco sneer.

"We're not here for a fight, you two," Hermione reprimanded resignedly.

The two of them looked away from one another.

She turned towards the blond, "I just wanted to know how things are going. I know it's hard to be in the same common room as him—"

"I'm sure you would know," he spat out. "I'm sure the two of you would know exactly what it's like, when I'm the one who has to put up with the pressure he places on us everyday while the two of you are cozily ensconced in the Gryffindor common room—"

"Worrying about you and Ginny," Harry cut in loudly.

Draco stopped talking and stared at them, a bit surprised. A tinge of pink appeared on his cheeks before he glanced off to the side. The three of them stood there, immersed in their own thoughts once again.

"Did Riddle try to get information from you?" Hermione asked, finally breaking the uncomfortable silence.

Draco nodded after a moment of hesitation.

"Last night," he muttered. Perhaps he was a bit taken aback by Harry's comment, but he was speaking to her in a politer way.

"Did he ...?" Hermione bit her lower lip.

"I told him we transferred from Durmstrang," he answered. He shuffled his feet, betraying his unease with having a civilized conversation with his former enemies. "It's easier to lie to him than when we were in the future, without him being a Legilimens."

Hermione nodded and the three of them fell silent again. It surprised her that Draco would be willing to talk about, or at least allude to, what had happened between him and Lord Voldemort.

"You should be careful. He might try to test you and see if you really are from Durmstrang," she warned.

Draco stared at her, a bit flabbergasted that she was actually worried about him. "Father was going to send me to Durmstrang a few years earlier," he replied, a bit more willingly than before. "I've read quite a bit about it and Father had told me some things about the school. I think I can handle his questions."

"Riddle can be a bit intimidating so—" Hermione started to say, but was cut off by a snort from Draco.

"Granger, 'a bit intimidating' is one of the biggest understatements I've ever heard," he shook his head.

Hermione only felt pity towards him at that moment. She could only imagine what he had gone through the night before.

"He gave you a rough time last night, didn't he?" she asked softly.

"Abraxas spoke up for me ... but I don't think that he really believes me ..." he trailed off, staring out the window again.

"But?" she inquired. Draco snapped back to reality and shook his head.

He answered, heaving a sigh, "To some extent, he's even scarier than back in the future. He … looks one way but acts another. You never know when he's going to curse you."

"Did he curse you?" she asked carefully, her eyebrows furrowing. He looked at her, as if he was trying to tell if her concern was genuine.

"No," he replied slowly. "I think he was about to, but as I said, Abraxas spoke up for me … and I don't think Riddle's too keen on doing things that might push one of his strongest followers away from him."

She let out a sigh of relief, which caused a look of amusement to appear on his face.

"You're not afraid of him?" Hermione asked, bewildered.

Draco gazed at her as if she had suddenly grown three heads. "Granger, wouldn't _**you**_ be scared?" He rolled his eyes.

"But you laughed as if you're not."

"Granger, you've never been under the scrutiny of the Dark Lord before." He paused, searching for the right words. "Showing how scared I am right now would only make things worse. He knows how to use others' weaknesses against them." Looking away, he continued, "I was just thinking about how weird this situation is. I'm supposed to be your enemy, but you actually care about my safety."

"Malloy, we're in this together. If something happens to one of us ... well ..."

He smirked, but did not answer.

"Have you told anyone that we're from the future?" she questioned after a while of silence, lowering her voice a bit, lest someone was standing outside the classroom.

"You don't know who you can trust and who you can't." He shook his head. "I mean," he said with a frown, "even my grandfather. He was a big supporter of the Dark Lord and irritatingly stubborn. I don't think he'd take it very well if I went up to him and told him he's following the wrong person." He sat down on one of the tables, crossing his legs at his ankles. "The other Slytherins are not worth my time. They're all too busy trying to gain the favor of You-Know-Who."

"Instead of you," Harry commented before he could stop himself.

Draco raised an eyebrow at him, questioning Harry's sanity with his eyes. Hermione gave Harry a disapproving look, causing him to blanch.

"I'm more concerned about the Dark Lord learning Legilimency though," Draco commented, his frown deepening.

"Do you mean he's learning it right now by himself?"

"He's been borrowing a lot of books from the library these days. I think he's using other books as a cover up, since they weren't about Legilimency—but … many of them talked about it … Legilimency, that is."

Hermione furrowed her eyebrows in thought. "It's not taught in school, so I doubt there would be step-by-step instructions on how to learn Legilimency in the library. I suppose he had to have learned it from somewhere, though …"

"Let's just hope that he doesn't learn it before we leave school," Harry sighed darkly.

"Of course, seeing what a horrible Occlumens you are," Draco drawled, raising an eyebrow at Harry, who sent him a furious look.

"Malloy," Hermione warned with a tired expression.

The blond shrugged and with a half-smile directed towards her, he confessed, "Couldn't resist it." He then stood up from the table and smoothed out his robes. "I think I should return to the common room. He'll be suspicious if I don't get back there on time."

Hermione nodded and gave him a small smile.

"Malloy," she suddenly called out before he opened the door.

He turned around, looking at her questioningly.

She took a deep breath. "I'd like to talk to you again about the truce I've suggested a few weeks ago."

Draco rolled his eyes.

"Do you really have to be so formal about _**everything**_ , Granger? If I wasn't willing to have a momentary truce with you, I wouldn't've told you as much as I've told you tonight." With a smirk, he pulled open the door and walked out.

"You know he's only doing this because he's afraid," Harry fumed as they walked back to the Gryffindor common room.

"Harry …"

"It's obvious, Hermione. Why else would he suddenly accept our suggestion? He probably got frightened by Riddle last night. That's why he's willing to open up. He's a Slytherin, Hermione," Harry continued.

Hermione stopped and looked at him.

"Harry, does it even matter why he opened up to us? What's important is that we get out of this alive," she admonished before she continued to walk towards the Gryffindor tower with Harry at her heels. "I don't see why you're so angry about it anyway. You were never friends with him so why do you care what his motives are?"

"Because I'm afraid that he might betray us," he replied through gritted teeth. "And who knows if he's accepting the truce because Riddle told him to?"

"There's only so much we can do, Harry. He knows quite well that he's in more danger than we are," she said before she gave the password ("Bumblebee") to the portrait. "And I honestly think that you should give people a chance before you jump to conclusions, Harry. This happened with Professor Snape already."

Harry's eyes dimmed at the mention of their former Potions professor. Hermione mentally sighed, feeling slightly guilty. Although Harry never told anyone, she knew that he regretted the nasty comments he had made about Snape throughout the years. Nevertheless, she knew that it was crucial for her to bring her point across, lest he do something that would harm either him or Draco.

"I'll see you tomorrow morning," Hermione said softly, to which he nodded.

Before she entered her room, she glanced at her best friend as he was entering the seventh year boys' dorms.

 _Hopefully,_ _the_ _tentative_ _comradeship can_ _be maintained after this frightening trip into the past_.

~-0-~

If Potions marked the time for war between Tom and Hermione, then Defense Against the Dark Arts had to be labeled as the dueling time for Hermione and Augusta. Hermione had no idea when it had started, but whenever she had Defense, the period always included some kind of competition with the Head Girl.

Joseph and Gareth were correct in saying that Merrythought's classes were some of the most interesting and stimulating. Whenever they started a new topic, they would spend the first couple of days mastering the new spell and practicing in pairs with their fellow classmates. Once the professor felt that they were ready, they would duel against magically Transfigured creatures. If their spells managed to hit their targets, numbers would hover above the creature, displaying the accuracy and strength of the spell. Hermione had momentarily wondered if Lupin had been inspired by Merrythought's methods of teaching, but quickly remembered that the professor had retired long before he went to Hogwarts.

The day that the students anticipated the most was what they dubbed the "hunting days". On these days, Merrythought would take them to a different classroom. The inside reminded Hermione very much of the haunted houses she had seen in movies. The classroom was magically enlarged to become five floors. Four students entered it at a time and were allowed to freely explore the "building", which was filled with different dark creatures they had covered in class. The students would have to depend on their skills to repel the creatures and to earn points for their Houses. Hermione suspected that half of the reason why the Gryffindors and Slytherins enjoyed the hunting days and why no one taught the Defense classes like this anymore was because students were freely given the chance to hex one another without being penalized for it.

That particular Tuesday, they filed into the Defense classroom, wondering what kind of creature they could expect to encounter the next hunting day, which was scheduled for the next Tuesday.

"Today, we will learn Yeti deflecting spells," Merrythought announced in a sweet, angelic voice, causing a flurry of murmurs across the room. "Who can tell me where Yetis are found in the world?"

Hermione and Augusta's hands immediately shot up in the air.

"Miss Granger?" Merrythought called with a gentle smile on her face.

"Most Yetis, also known as Sasquatch or Bigfoot, are rather shy, which makes it impossible to document all possible locations where they could be found. The countries with the largest populations of Yetis, or rather, where they are most 'outgoing', are Nepal, Bhutan, China, Canada, and the United States," Hermione recited.

"Excellent, Miss Granger. Five points to Gryffindor," Merrythought rewarded her. "As those of you who have read ahead in the textbook already know, there are five different ways to hold off a Yeti, created by wizards from each of the five areas Miss Granger mentioned. We will only learn two of them, since I think that most of you are probably uninterested in learning the correct pronunciation of Chinese, Sanskrit, and Nepali words. Pronouncing the spells incorrectly could lead to some unpleasant situations for the caster, and I'm sure none of you want that."

"Bet you've already studied how to correctly pronounce those Chinese, Sanskrit, and Nepali words, haven't you?" Harry teased Hermione in a whisper.

"Hush," she hissed, though the blush on her face confirmed his words. Defense had always been her weakest subject—so what if she had taken extra time to study for the class?

"We will learn the Skoocooms Deflector today and the Sasquatch Repelling Spell in our next class," Merrythought said, walking around and tapping the wand in her hand.

She proceeded to separate the class into groups of two. Much to Hermione's dismay, she was, again, paired with Augusta. Harry cast her a look of sympathy before walking over to the Ravenclaw he was assigned to work with.

"Aim for the pads and _only_ the pads. I trust that all of you are responsible enough to follow these directions. Whoever purposely aims to hurt a fellow student will serve detention with Hogan for the rest of the year."

The students involuntarily shuddered at the thought of having to face the Hogwarts caretaker until the year ended.

Hermione turned around and faced Augusta. Upon noticing the sneer on her face, Hermione swallowed her words of courtesy and eyed Augusta cautiously.

"Shall we begin?" Hermione asked.

" _Sectum ferumanus_!"

Without warning, Augusta flung a curse at her, nearly hitting her shoulder.

" _Sectum ferumanus_!" Hermione quickly cast back at her.

Augusta was becoming more and more vicious with each class, causing Hermione to wonder if she had been placed in the right House. Augusta never followed Merrythought's rules about aiming for the pads whenever the professor's back was turned towards them.

"Quite lithe for someone who's not a pure-blood," Augustus Rookwood commented, quiet enough so that Merrythought did not hear them.

"Now's not the time to be complimenting her, Augustus," Augusta replied without taking her eyes off Hermione.

"Of course," he smirked, halfheartedly throwing the spell at Mercurius Rosier.

"Watch it, Augustus," Mercurius warned through gritted teeth, ducking away from the flash of light.

"Pardon me," Augustus apologized, still concentrating on the battle between the lionesses. He eyed Hermione with a sneer. "You think you're so intelligent, don't you, Granger? Competing with the Head Boy and Head Girl in every single class?"

Hermione ignored his comments and continued blocking Augusta's curses.

"Are you trying to catch Tom's attention?" he asked, causing Augusta and Mercurius to snicker. "Because it's not working. He's not going to like someone like you."

"That's terrible. I'll just go hide in my room and cry my eyes out then, shall I?" Hermione replied wryly, blocking another spell sent at her by Augusta.

"Did you actually think he would like you?" Augustus continued to taunt her. "Did you think that with so many girls in school who like him, he would choose someone as plain as you?"

"Of course. Isn't that how romance novels are written? Plain, simple witch meets tall, handsome, ideally filthy rich wizard. They fall in love and live happily ever after," she said mockingly. "Oh, how dreadfully romantic."

Mercurius and Augustus stared at her, both rendered momentarily speechless by her answer. Alphard, who was practicing beside them, laughed. Hermione grinned at him before returning her attention to the spell-casting.

Luckily for her, Augustus made no further comments (perhaps due to the fact that he could not think of anything more interesting to say) and she only had to concentrate on not getting maimed by Augusta.

"Such a steadily developing friendship you have there with the Rookwoods," Harry teased when they sat back down at the table.

"I'm completely enamored by them. How have I lived so long without them?" she replied in mock horror, glad that the period ended without her getting seriously injured.

"I'd be careful if I were you," Joseph leaned over and whispered. "Rookwood is known to be quite vindictive when provoked."

"And with Augusta backing him up, he almost always escapes punishment with merely a slap on the wrist," Gareth wrinkled his nose.

"You've had a run-in with him before?" Harry questioned.

"More than a run-in, Harry. They're practically at each other's throats," Joseph snorted.

"Why?" Hermione asked.

"Because he," Joseph pointed at Gareth, "fancies Delphine Gamp."

Gareth immediately covered his mouth.

"Shut it, Joseph," he hissed, looking towards Delphine, who was talking with two other Slytherin girls.

As if by cue, she glanced over at Gareth. She lowered her dark blue eyes, and a lock of dark brown hair brushed past her cheek at the same time a pink tinge appeared. Almost immediately, she turned around, once again immersed in a conversation with her friends.

"And why would Rookwood care?" Harry snorted.

"He fancies Delphine, too," Joseph answered with a smile.

"Who does Delphine like?" Hermione asked.

Joseph shrugged. "Don't know for sure, although Gareth swears that she gazes at him."

"Joseph!"

"The only problem is, he's a Gryffindor and she's a Slytherin. Not many people in her House are fond of old Weasley over here," Joseph continued, ignoring his Gareth's protests. "So the two of them, Gareth and Rookwood that is, are constantly dueling one another in secret."

"Well, that's nothing new, is it?" she asked pointedly, raising an eyebrow.

Gareth grimaced and was about to answer when Merrythought began to give out homework.

"I've heard from Galahad," Gareth admitted as they walked out of the classroom. "You saw them in the hospital wing, didn't you?"

Harry looked at Hermione questioningly. She had not told him yet about the "interesting spectacle" she had seen while she was in the Infirmary.

"Yes, I did. When did you actually plan to tell us about it? After we got secretly hexed in the hallways, perhaps?" Hermione huffed, shaking her head and walking slightly ahead of them.

"It's for your own good, Hermione. You're only going to be here for one year, so there's no point in pulling you into it now," Joseph spoke up.

"Wait, so Slytherins and Gryffindors are secretly dueling?" Harry asked.

"Keep it down, Harry," Joseph immediately warned. He leaned closer to the two of them. "The professors aren't supposed to know."

"Should be worrying about that when you're dueling with them," Hermione said in a singsong voice.

Joseph and Gareth continued giving excuses all the way to Gryffindor tower.

"I mean, look! Black—Cygnus Black, that is—got detention when he was sneaking back to the Slytherin common room last night and he still didn't say anything to the professors," Joseph pointed out.

"Just two words, Joseph. It's stupid. It's too easy for you to get caught and then you'll be stuck with Hogan for the rest of the year, or worse, expelled," Hermione rolled her eyes and gave the Fat Lady the password.

~-0-~

"You know, this is frustrating," Harry grumbled later as he closed another book and threw it on top of the steadily growing stack on the table.

Feeling uncomfortable about the fact that he had not done anything that would help their situation, Harry had decided to lend her a hand.

"You weren't the one who sat in here for the last four weeks looking through books, Harry," Hermione reminded him.

"I was preoccupied," he replied sheepishly.

"Uh-huh. With Quidditch, Exploding Snap, and so on," she commented, though she was not really bothered by his activities, since it was a sign that he was slowly regaining his usual enthusiasm after Ginny's incident.

"Hermione ..."

"I'm not blaming you, Harry, but we really ought to find the way back as soon as we can," she said in a lower voice. He sighed and nodded before he glanced at the clock hanging on top of the doorway of the library.

"It's ten minutes before curfew. We should probably get back to the common room before Hogan catches us after hours," he suggested.

After replacing the books on the shelves, they walked back to the common room in silence, each immersed in their own thoughts and worries.

When they entered the common room, Gareth ran up to them, closely followed by Joseph and Galahad.

"Hermione, Harry," Gareth panted, looking at them frantically.

"What's the matter?" Hermione asked, uneasiness stirring in the pit of her stomach.

"Madam Pomfrey sent a student here a while ago, requesting the two of you. Something about Ginny."

~-0-~

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **A/N:** Many thanks to my betas: Lildaani, Noybate, Hajnalmadar, and matterhorn.


	12. Chapter 12

**Chapter 12**

Hermione and Harry ran all the way to the Infirmary, ignoring the protests or complaints of the portraits along the way.

They opened the door as fast as they could, their concern for Ginny overcoming the fatigue they felt from running across the castle. Both Madam Pomfrey and Dumbledore whirled around when they heard the door to the hospital wing thrown open. The panic-stricken look on the Mediwitch's face only added to their worries.

"Thank Merlin, the two of you are finally here!" Madam Pomfrey hurried over to Ginny's bedside and started to wave her wand above the redhead. "Miss Weatherby has to go to St. Mungo's immediately."

"But … but why?" Harry stammered, his face suddenly paler than normal.

"Her condition just worsened," Madam Pomfrey answered, continuing to cast mist on Ginny.

"I thought she was getting better," Hermione said frantically.

"I had thought so, too, but this isn't the time to discuss this right now. She needs to go to St. Mungo's and I need one of you to accompany her," Madam Pomfrey explained.

"I'll go with her," Harry immediately volunteered.

"But Harry—" Hermione started to say.

"She's my fiancée. I have to take care of her," he said firmly.

Hermione frowned, but she knew when Harry had his mind set on something.

Dumbledore solemnly watched as Madam Pomfrey strapped Ginny to Harry.

"Very well, then," Dumbledore said, taking a stone out of his pocket. " _Portus_."

He handed the Portkey to Harry and seconds later, both Harry and Ginny disappeared from the room. Hermione stared at the empty space where Harry had previously been standing for a few minutes, a sort of resolution forming inside her.

As calmly as she could, she said to Dumbledore, "Professor, I need to talk with you."

He scrutinized her for a while before he answered, "We shall speak in my office."

~-0-~

Dumbledore sat in the armchair behind the table and made a steeple with his hands, looking at Hermione with his signature piercing blue eyes. His face was not as jovial as usual, due to Ginny's condition, she presumed.

"How may I help you, Miss Granger?" he asked.

She bit her lower lip, not knowing how to word her sentences to make her sound less rude. Taking a deep breath, she decided to get straight to the point.

"Professor, I wanted to know if you have any new information pertaining to how we were sent here and when we might be able to return home," she answered.

For a fleeting moment, she thought she saw a frown on the his face, but before she could be sure, it had disappeared.

"I'm afraid, Miss Granger, that I have no new information," he replied. "I've searched through many books, some from my own personal library. Yet, there is no information concerning the way you were sent back in time."

Hermione closed her eyes. That meant that they _**still**_ could not go back.

"I'm currently trying to contact one of my friends, Mr. Konrad Feierabend, although I expect that he's in one of his many cellars, trying to invent a workable time machine," Dumbledore continued, slightly turning his head to look out the window. "I might have to go look for him myself."

"Mr. Konrad Feierabend?"

Dumbledore nodded.

"He has been working on time traveling theories for nearly all his life. No one knows more about time travel than he … at least in our time period," he said with a slight, distracted smile. He remained quiet for a few minutes before he glanced at Hermione. "I've heard about your interactions with Mr. Riddle, Miss Granger."

"Professor, I—"

He held up his hand, stopping Hermione from explaining.

"I do not mean to lecture or reprimand you on what you do. However, if I make the trip to Germany to find Mr. Feierabend, it could take up to a month or more before I return to Hogwarts. I must ask you to take care in your actions. Mr. Riddle might be merely curious about you right now, but it is a fine line between interest and obsession. Please do not give him any incentive to change that 'curiosity' into 'suspicion'," he warned.

She stared at him, speechless.

A month? He was going to leave for a month?

On top of that, he also reminded her that she was all alone by herself with Harry and Ginny at St. Mungo's. Tom Riddle could murder her, chop her up into pieces, and make her into a mince pie before one of them returned.

"When do you plan to leave?" Hermione asked.

She hoped that she did not look as desperate as she felt at the moment.

"As soon as I get permission from the Headmaster. I am, as you know, the Transfiguration professor, so he will need to find a replacement for me while I am not here. That means that I might leave Hogwarts as early as two days from now," Dumbledore explained.

_Oh dear_ , Hermione thought. She had not foreseen how dangerous her situation could become.

"Is there anything else you need to ask?" he questioned.

She shook her head slowly. It was not as if she could ask him to stay. Dumbledore's trip could make all the difference in their situation. If he found Konrad Feierabend, they might have a chance to return to the future.

_Or maybe just Harry, Ginny, and Malfoy_ , she thought gravely.

"Then, I must excuse myself, Miss Granger. I must see the Headmaster to make the arrangements," Dumbledore said, standing up from his chair.

Hermione nodded numbly and walked out of the office.

As she walked back to Gryffindor tower, an uneasy feeling suddenly crept up on her. The shadows of the statues flickered with the candlelight. Her footsteps echoed through the hallways, making them seem even emptier than it really was.

She half expected to run into a certain Slytherin around every corner.

_Get a grip, Hermione_ , she scolded herself.

She was a Gryffindor. She was supposed to be brave.

_But you're talking about the Dark Lord here. Who killed_ _thousands._ _Whom_ _everyone was afraid of_ , the little voice in the back of her head reminded her.

_And who was killed by Harry_ , Hermione retorted angrily.

_Who won by sheer luck_ , the little voice replied smugly.

"You're not helping," she muttered to herself.

"Who's not helping?" a voice suddenly asked, causing her to jump.

She whirled around and found herself face to face with the very person she was afraid of seeing at the moment. And she had no idea how long he had been there.

"Nothing," she managed to squeak before she turned around and attempted to walk away.

"Miss Granger," he called out.

She stopped in her tracks and closed her eyes. Hearing his footsteps slowly coming towards her made her want to flee even more. She wanted to pretend that she had not heard him and to continue walking back to the dorms, but she knew that it would only anger him more.

Her heart almost stopped the moment his footsteps halted in front of her. She opened her eyes and found him smiling down at her, strongly reminding her of Death himself.

"Why, may I ask, are you in the hallways after hours?" he questioned.

"I was … seeing Professor Dumbledore," she answered, thanking Merlin once again that he did not know Legilimency.

"I see," he circled her. "You're lying."

"We could go over to Professor Dumbledore's office right now," Hermione replied quickly, her heart beating painfully against her ribs.

He chuckled softly.

"Everyone in the school knows how Professor Dumbledore favors his students over others," he commented silkily, standing right next to her. "Obviously, he would lie for you, just so you could get out of detention."

"But I was seeing him," she argued, turning around to face him.

"Where's the note?" he demanded, raising an eyebrow.

Hermione gaped at him. She had forgotten to get a signed note from Dumbledore. Then again, the professor had also forgotten to give her one, but that was beside the point.

At her failure to give him the proper documents, he spoke again, "I'm waiting."

"I don't have a note," she admitted dejectedly, wishing that she could take her wand out and hex him.

"I see. You don't have a note," he said, a pleasant smile on his face but a predatory glint in his eyes.

She momentarily wondered where her previous courage had gone; she could barely bring herself to move, let alone pull out her wand. Why should the scrutiny of a seventeen-year-old boy affect her to this extent? He hadn't even done anything yet.

No wonder people feared him.

"You're very accustomed to hiding the truth, aren't you, Miss Granger?" he commented, his eyes raking over her face.

"I have nothing to hide," she replied cautiously, rolling her hands into fists to stop herself from doing something rash and willing her heart to slow down.

It was then that she realized that her palms were sweaty and she hoped that her anxiety wasn't showing through her expressions.

"Do not lie to me, Miss Granger," he said quietly. "We both know that you and your friends have been hiding some sort of secret since the first day you came here."

Her Gryffindor courage overcame her fear, making her stare straight into his eyes instead of turning away and cowering in fear.

"I'm afraid you're mistaken—"

A flash of annoyance went through his eyes, causing her to panic and regret her previous decision to speak up. What if he suddenly decided to hex her or throw her into the Chamber of Secrets?

"Tom, what are you doing here?" they suddenly heard a voice behind him.

Hermione let out a sigh of relief. She swore she would be forever thankful to the person who interrupted their conversation.

"Good evening, Professor," Tom greeted Slughorn, who was walking up to them.

A look of disgust appeared on Hermione's face at his pretentious act and she was more than glad that his attention was not directed towards her. Of course, this lack of attention also allowed Hermione a chance to further scrutinize him.

_I mean, honestly, he probably even wakes up early in the morning to polish his shoes and iron his clothes to look absolutely perfect in front of the professors. Immaculate, innocent, charming Tom Riddle. How could someone_ _like_ **him** _do something evil?_

If she wasn't in the situation she was in, she would've rushed to the nearest toilet and vomited.

"Good evening," Slughorn replied, walking up to the two of them. "Ah! Miss Granger! What a pleasant surprise!"

"Good evening, Professor," Hermione smiled.

"Good evening, good evening," Slughorn answered. "What are you two doing here?" His eyes slid from Tom to Hermione and then back to Tom again. A look of realization dawned on his face. "Oh, I see."

_See … what?_ Hermione mentally asked, a bad feeling bubbling at the pit of her stomach at the thought that had just appeared in her mind. She desperately hoped that Slughorn was not thinking what she _**thought**_ he was thinking.

"I was doing the rounds, Professor," Tom replied.

"Of course, of course. What better time to meet than when you're patrolling?" Slughorn remarked, winking at Hermione.

For the millionth time since she arrived in the past, Hermione wished someone would hex her on the spot.

"We're not—" she started to say.

"Don't mind me, the two of you," Slughorn said, pushing the two of them towards one another. "I'll just pretend I haven't seen anything."

"Professor," Hermione struggled, trying to explain and stay away from Tom at the same time.

"I was doing the rounds, Professor, when I caught her in the hallways after hours," Tom clarified while he, too, tried to avoid touching Hermione.

Slughorn tilted his head to one side.

"Tom, it's alright. You know that you're one of my favorite students! I don't mind that you're meeting someone when you're supposed to be patrolling! I remember how it was when I was your age …" He sighed and for a second, seemingly immersed in memories. "There's no need to punish the girl, Tom. That's very unfair to her."

"But it's true, Professor, what Riddle said—well, sort of true. I went to see Dumbledore, but _**Riddle**_ insisted that I was strolling around," Hermione corroborated his words, glancing at Tom, who was looking at her with his signature expressionless face.

Slughorn looked at the two of them with pity on his face.

"Come on now, you two. I promise that I won't tell anyone," he continued.

Hermione sighed in defeat. She would rather get weeks of detention than be in the situation she was in right now.

"I'll take the detention. Take me to Dippet," she addressed Tom.

Tom raised his eyebrow at her, but, nonetheless, turned around to lead the way.

"Tom, Hermione, there's no need for that," Slughorn followed closely behind them. "Oh, I see."

Hermione closed her eyes. She did not want to know what he was seeing.

"You're trying to protect her, aren't you, m'boy? You know that the other girls would start attacking her if they knew the two of you …" he trailed off.

Hermione nearly snorted.

Lord Voldemort trying to protect her? That had to be the biggest joke she had ever heard in her life.

"There's nothing between the two of us, Professor," Tom explained quietly.

Hermione glanced at him, noticing that he was furious about the situation.

_Well, it's his fault for trying to get me in trouble_ , she thought.

"Yes, yes, of course," Slughorn bubbled, waving his hand at the two of them. "There's absolutely nothing between the two of you."

He then winked at Hermione again, which disgusted her to no end.

The night was definitely not going her way.

~-0-~

"Good evening, Horace," Dippet greeted Slughorn when the three of them entered the Headmaster's office. He noticed Tom and his eyes lit up. "Oh, good evening, Tom. What have you here?" He looked at Hermione.

She wondered for the thousandth time why Armando Dippet was made Headmaster of Hogwarts in the first place. A bloody murderer was standing right in front of him and instead of being cautious of him, Dippet was absolutely dotty about Tom Riddle.

"She was strolling in the hallways after hours, Headmaster," Tom replied.

"I was seeing Professor Dumbledore," Hermione corrected angrily. She turned around and addressed the Headmaster, "He can testify for me."

"My dear," Dippet replied with a frown, "Professor Dumbledore just left for Germany."

"He left? Already?" Hermione squeaked.

Dippet seemed to be slightly taken aback by her outburst but composed himself quite quickly.

"Yes. He left about ten minutes ago," he answered.

"Which means that no one can prove your supposed innocence, Miss Granger," Tom commented.

Hermione resisted the urge to hex him and focused her attention on Dippet instead.

"Yes, yes. I'm afraid that you will have to serve detention then," Dippet said as she had expected.

"Headmaster, I have a suggestion," Slughorn suddenly spoke up, which caused the three of them to look at him.

"Yes, Horace?" Dippet asked expectantly.

"Tom is helping me reorganize the Potions classroom on days when he's not patrolling. I'm wondering if Miss Granger could serve her detention as Tom's assistant," Slughorn answered.

Hermione stared at him, horrified. This could not be happening. Did he actually think he was doing her a favor?

She glanced back at Headmaster, hoping that he would say no.

"That's a wonderful idea!" Dippet exclaimed to her dismay. "Now, how long did you say it might take for your classroom to be reorganized?"

"Well, it should take around a month for everything to be reorganized."

"Very well. Miss Granger can help you for a—"

"Professor," Hermione said loudly, successfully stopping their conversation. "I was only out after hours."

Dippet frowned at her, but nodded slowly, turning his attention back to Slughorn.

"She does have a point. A month of detention seems a bit too much of a punishment for that and she has only been here for a little more than a month. I suppose, she could've merely been unaware of the curfew. One week of detention as Tom's assistant, then! That should be sufficient."

She bit her lower lip and nodded.

As they left the Headmaster's office, Slughorn looped one arm around Tom's arm and the other arm around Hermione's.

"There's no need to thank me. It is absolutely my pleasure to help out such wonderful students as yourselves," he assured, winking at Hermione again. He looked at Tom. "There's a party on the fifteenth of December and I do expect you to bring Miss Granger to it. I will be quite displeased if I do not see such a lovely couple attend it. If any of the girls ask, just tell them that I've requested that you take Hermione, since it's her first time attending one of my parties." He then released both of their arms. "Good night then, Tom, Hermione. Don't stay up too late."

He smiled at Hermione in a meaningful way before walking away, making her mouth drop open. She couldn't believe that he had just handed her an official invitation to the Slug Club under these conditions and virtually demanded that she go to the party with _**Tom Riddle**_ of all people.

"Of course I won't be thanking him," she muttered through gritted teeth when Slughorn disappeared from sight.

The two of them stood in silence for a while, each attempting to find a way out of the situation they were in.

"I'll explain to Slughorn. I doubt that I can convince him otherwise, but perhaps you—we can avoid going to his party as a couple," Tom broke the silence, his eyebrows furrowed in concentration.

Hermione stiffly nodded, hoping that he could succeed in persuading Slughorn.

_I mean, he_ **is** _Lord Voldemort. He should be persuasive enough to get the stupid professor to yield, right?_

She remained standing there and gazing at him, waiting to see if he had anything else to say. Without his threatening looks and words, she found her eyes drinking in his handsome features and her mind forming thoughts she hoped Harry would never find out about.

She knew it was wrong, but simply staring at and mentally admiring the future Dark Lord couldn't really cause any harm.

Could it?

"Then, I bid you a good night. We will finish our previous conversation … some other time," he said, his eyes indecipherable. With a small nod of his head, he turned around and walked towards the Slytherin common room, leaving her in his wake.

~-0-~

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **A/N:** Many thanks to my betas: Lildaani, Noybate, Hajnalmadar, and matterhorn!


	13. Chapter 13

**Chapter 13**

"Hermione!" Gareth called when she walked into the Defense Against the Dark Arts class the next day. She smiled faintly, walked over to where he and Joseph were sitting, and sat down next to him.

She started to take out her writing equipment when she noticed Gareth and Joseph whispering to one another and occasionally glancing at her. The two of them stopped whispering and stared back at her with ridiculous grins on their faces before Gareth cleared his throat.

"So … Hermione …"

"Yes?"

She had a feeling that this conversation was going to steer towards a direction she would not enjoy too much.

"We heard about you getting yourself into detention last night," Gareth continued.

"And?" she asked, raising her eyebrows at them, a bit surprised at how quickly the rumors spread.

"We also heard that you're going to have detention as Riddle's assistant," Joseph added.

Hermione had a hunch about what they were implying and replied, "I didn't ask for it."

"Uh huh," Joseph smirked, causing her to narrow her eyes at him while he flipped through his Defense Against the Dark Arts textbook.

Muttering under her breath about "stupid rumor mills", she took out her textbook and placed it on the desk when she began to hear snippets from the two Gryffindor boys' conversation.

"… and Harry wouldn't believe me. I _**told**_ him that she fancies him …"

She whipped her head around and stared at the young man who looked so similar to Ron.

"And who fancies who?" she asked dangerously, folding her arms across her chest.

"Er …" Gareth gulped, turning her attention over to her. "Merrythought fancies the Giant Squid."

"I'm sure," Hermione said through gritted teeth.

She decided to ignore them, which was easier said than done. She was sorely tempted to pull a Ginny and curse them with a Bat-Bogey Hex, or maybe even throw her textbooks at them although she couldn't see herself abusing any books in that manner; their incessant chuckling and whispering were driving her to the point of insanity. She swore she could hear them all the way from the other side of the room when she was paired with Augusta to practice the Sasquatch Repelling Spell. She momentarily wondered if Augusta had bribed them to use the chattering as a way to distract her.

Hermione almost wanted to shout out in relief when the class finally ended. That was, until Merrythought called her name while she was walking out of class.

"Tom, Hermione, may I speak with the two of you for a few minutes?"

Draco frowned and glanced at Hermione with a worried look as he walked out of the classroom, almost causing her to smile. She was glad that they were slowly forming a kind of comradeship, even though it was hard for him to trust her completely yet.

"Yes, Professor?" Tom questioned, pulling out his innocent Head Boy act again and causing Hermione to roll her eyes.

Thankfully, neither of them had their eyes on her.

"I've heard from Professor Slughorn concerning issues about your … personal lives. Although I'm not in the position to tell you what you should or should not do, I'm hoping that it will not affect your grades," Merrythought replied.

The two of them stared at her. To Hermione, the professor's voice was quickly losing its angelic touch.

Before either one of them could say anything, Merrythought continued, "I know that the two of you are of age and it's absolutely normal to be attracted to members of the opposite sex, but both of you are the most promising students I've ever taught!" She gazed at Hermione fondly. "Although this is the first year I've taught you, I have to say that you do have the potential to become an outstanding member of our society." She looked at Tom, "I trust you will remember the amount of compliments I have given you throughout the last six years. The two of you must understand that your courses at Hogwarts will end soon and you will have an entire lifetime to get to know each other another. I sincerely hope that you will keep schoolwork ahead of other things."

"I'll keep that in mind, Professor," Tom replied, apparently recovering from the astonishment faster than Hermione again.

"Wonderful! I'm expecting to see fantastic grades on your N.E.W.T.s. I understand that it's going to be quite hard for you to concentrate, since young love can be rather distracting."

She couldn't help herself—Hermione promptly snorted. Merrythought was perhaps too immersed in what she was saying to notice it; however, Tom threw an amused glance in her direction before looking back at the professor.

"Don't worry, Professor. It will not affect my grades," he reassured Merrythought, who then bade them goodbye happily.

Noticing that Hermione stood still gawking at him, he frowned and pulled her out the classroom by her sleeve.

"Why … why didn't you explain to her?" Hermione stuttered once they were in the hallway.

Instead of answering her, he narrowed his eyes at a pair of students a few meters away from them.

"Farrow! Ten points from Gryffindor! And if I see you attempting to break into the teacher's cabinet again, it will be another twenty!" Tom barked.

The two Gryffindor second years immediately ran off in the opposite direction, all the while looking suspiciously between Hermione and Tom. She heaved a sigh, realizing that there was bound to be even more rumors by dinnertime.

A few minutes passed before Tom finally replied to her, "I don't see the point of explaining to her. If you haven't noticed, most of the professors are quite stubborn when it comes to their beliefs." He stared at her, waiting to see if she had something to say before continuing, "The rumors are not going to stop because we try to explain anything to anyone. They'll only believe that we're trying to cover up our supposed relationship."

"But … this is nonsense!" she exclaimed.

"Precisely, which is why we should treat it as such," he answered. "I doubt I will need to advise you to remain silent when people ask you questions, do I?"

"What do you mean? I can understand not automatically bringing up the subject but if someone asks me, wouldn't it be even more suspicious if I didn't answer at all?" Hermione asked.

"Granger, if you haven't noticed, any answer you give them will only feed the rumors that are being spread throughout the school and you can be assured that I will _**personally**_ have another chat with you if that happens."

Hermione unconsciously took a step back from him. While others might just find it strange to see Tom Riddle in anger, she was more concerned for her own well-being; she would be more than dense if she didn't hear the underlying threat in his words.

A polite smile appeared on his face, but the coldness in his voice added a hint of cruelty to it.

"If you will please excuse me, I believe I've had enough of this nonsense for the day," he said.

She stared back at him, as if she was trying to redeem whatever was left of her reputation as a brave Gryffindor.

He narrowed his eyes at her momentarily, although she had no idea why. Fear gripped her heart when a question entered her mind, the same question that had been plaguing her since she realized that she had arrived in 1944—was he a Legilimens? Abruptly, she shifted her eyes until she was looking at his forehead instead of his eyes.

He raised an eyebrow at her, mockery further diminishing any last bits of civility before he turned around and left her in the middle of the hallway.

~-0-~

When Hermione entered the Potions classroom, she took a leaf out of Harry's book and stacked her books in front of her so she did not need to see Slughorn later during class. Draco's eyes slid from the stack of books over to her and he raised his eyebrow questioningly. Hermione looked at him helplessly which he returned with a confused expression, causing her to giggle softly to herself.

While she waited for class to start, she started to mentally compare Tom and Slughorn, trying to figure out who she hated more. By the time the future Dark Lord strode into the classroom, she still had not made up her mind.

Once class began, however, she quickly made up her mind that it was pretty obvious which of the two were more despicable, regardless of whether he had helped her out of a sticky situation or not.

"Ah, Hermione! I've received notice from the Headmaster that Mr. Evans won't be in class for a few days," Slughorn said rather cheerfully.

Hermione gave him a weak smile, which went unnoticed by him as he looked around the classroom. His eyes noticeably brightened when they landed on Tom.

"Tom, would you kindly be Hermione's partner while Mr. Evans is absent?"

The two of them stared at him while the other students whispered amongst themselves. Some of the girls turned around and sent glares towards Hermione.

What was Slughorn thinking? They sat on two different sides of the classroom! Now the whole class would think that they were really a couple. Hermione didn't know if she wanted to run back to the Gryffindor tower and hide or just dig a hole right in the dungeons and bury herself.

Tom's eyes were now cast towards the floor, so she could not guess what he was thinking.

"Yes, Professor," he replied a few seconds later. He picked up his books and walked over to the table where Hermione was sitting.

Slughorn then winked at her _**again**_. She gazed at the silver knife on her table, thinking that it would be more useful being stabbed into Slughorn's eyes than lying there on the table.

"Miss Granger, if you would kindly remove your bag," Tom requested, breaking her train of thought.

Hermione glanced at him, biting back a rather stupid question. With his influence over Slughorn, she did not see why he did not reject Slughorn's request.

She pulled her bag off the chair and momentarily lost focus when he elegantly slid into the chair beside her.

_Captivating …_

She mentally shuddered, blaming her mind for going off on its own course and promptly thinking of something else to stop those disturbing adjectives from entering her mind.

She assumed that Tom had tried to explain to Slughorn that they were not an item, but obviously the professor had refused to listen to him.

Hermione frowned, understanding that this could very well cause problems in the future. What annoyed her even more was that there was nothing she could do. If Tom could not convince the oversized Cupid, she doubted that she could.

"Who can tell me the properties of Mnemosyne's grass?" Slughorn asked after the class settled down rocking back and forth on the balls of his feet.

As if his question was the blast of a war horn, Tom and Hermione promptly switched over to battle mode. Both of their hands shot up in the air and a gleeful twinkle appeared in Slughorn's eyes as he gestured for Hermione to answer first.

Tom propped up his face with his hand, gazing at her with an attentive look in his eyes and his lips curving up into a seemingly amiable smile. Mentally slapping herself for forgetting her resolution to stop attracting his attention, she internally sighed before answering the question.

"While fairy tears can be used to reverse the effects of memory charms, Mnemosyne's grass can be used to retrieve memories. For example, if a person removes a memory from his or her mind, the herb can be used to restructure the memory," Hermione said, trying to pretend that the person sitting beside her was invisible. "As was mentioned in the last class, fairy tears have the negative side-effect of causing the person to lose his or her senses. Mnemosyne's grass, on the other hand, does not have a definite set of side-effects. Each person shows different symptoms when exposed to the herb."

"Excellent, Miss Granger! Five points to Gryffindor!" Slughorn exclaimed.

"I suppose you believe that Mnemosyne's grass should remain banned," Tom spoke up, his eyes now trained on the quill he was playing with in his hand.

Hermione observed him carefully, wondering if she was treading on dangerous waters if she retorted. Was he simply challenging her like he always did? Or did he have an ulterior motive?

He raised an eyebrow, the challenge obvious in his demeanor.

"Of course," she replied, determined to remain as civil and cool-headed as possible.

"Just like you've said, every person has a different reaction to the grass, which means that not every person will necessarily have a negative reaction," Tom continued.

She glanced at him askew, willing herself to not jump on the bait. Although his eyes were not on her, she had the strange feeling that he was monitoring her every move. She nibbled on her lower lip, trying to stop herself from speaking and ignoring the expectant glances from Slughorn. It was then that she noticed she was the focal point of the whole class's attention. Perhaps they had been alerted by her lack of response and her cheeks suddenly felt warmer than usual.

"If the Ministry could get answers to questions and perhaps discover important evidence, I don't see why it should be outlawed," Tom stated. "And if monitored correctly, I doubt it would fall into the wrong hands."

"Excellent points, Tom," Slughorn nodded. "Five points to Slytherin."

"If used in the right potions and processes, there is also the possibility that the memories of the dead can be retrieved using this herb," he said.

His attention was apparently not on Slughorn and it seemed he couldn't care less about what he was awarded. He was voicing his letter of challenge to her and as hard as she tried to deny it, it was tempting. She wanted to prove him wrong. She wanted to tell him how ridiculous and wrong his points were.

The class remained quiet, waiting for an answer from Hermione.

The cold courtesy on Hermione's face was rapidly melting into irritation. Her teeth sank deeper into the flesh of her bottom lip as she stared at him. He was still looking at the quill and his forefinger gently slid down the feather, reminding Hermione of how an owner would caress his pet.

Or how a predator calmed its prey before devouring it.

"From this, we can see that there's more to gain than lose by lifting the ban on Mnemosyne's grass."

He finally looked at her, lazy enjoyment at her discomfort written on every feature of his face.

"Shall I assume that you agree with my points, since you haven't raised any objections to what I have said?" he asked, the mocking undertone in his voice overly apparent.

A side of her brain urged her to remain quiet, claiming that it was the right and smart move. However, the derisive commentary coming from the other side of her mind was much louder. The mere idea of agreeing to what Tom said was simply unbearable.

He tilted his head to one side with a victorious glint in his eyes.

_To hell with this. It's_ **only** _an intellectual debate. And I've already answered a question at the beginning of class._

"No," she finally said quietly. "I do _**not**_ see how that can be right. It's a complete violation of privacy."

She saw his eyes flicker for only a moment—was it approval?—but before she had a chance to say something that would end the conversation, he spoke again.

"If a person had nothing to hide, they wouldn't have tried to remove it from their memories," Tom said, leaning closer to her. "And that fact alone condemns them: they have secrets that they do not want people to know."

Hermione's mouth dropped open, shock etched on her face.

"That's absurd!" she protested. "It could be anything else. They could've chosen to remove that memory because it's too painful or too depressing for them to bear—"

"Then it wouldn't matter if it was reconstructed in their minds or not," Tom cut in.

"Of course it matters!" she objected, pushing herself forward in her chair. "Why should they be made to go through the same pain they've gone through once already? That, in itself, is inhumane."

"You're forgetting that we're talking about people who are possibly doing something that is less than desirable to the general population," Tom pointed out.

"They're _**only**_ suspects!" she exclaimed.

"You're also forgetting that side-effects are _**only**_ possibilities. There is a chance that they wouldn't get those side-effects."

"And we should risk their health to obtain information that might not even be relevant to what we're investigating?" Hermione asked. She shook her head again. "No, that's just wrong."

"Everything has its risks. We'll never advance in anything if we avoid taking any chances," Tom replied quietly.

"There are other ways to get information from someone, other ways that will not endanger them!" Hermione argued.

"Yes, of course there are other ways, but they are not nearly as effective as Mnemosyne's grass."

She snorted in disbelief. "Whatever happened to innocent until proven guilty? If we have no proof that these people are criminals, why should we use these herbs on them? It's just unfair and … well … wrong," she said.

"The point is, Miss Granger, that we cannot prove that they are necessarily innocent, either," Tom replied.

She opened and closed her mouth a couple of times. His ideas were wrong on so many levels, but she didn't know where to start.

Tom, on the other hand, was scrutinizing her through slightly narrowed eyes, as if he was trying to search for something in her face or mind—or perhaps, even her soul. At that moment, it almost seemed as if they were the only ones in the world. It was a verbal battle as well as a mental combat. The only thing that mattered to Hermione was to prove him wrong while he sifted through her words, expressions, and thoughts for the answers he was seeking.

"I—" she began to say but was interrupted by a light cough from Slughorn's direction.

It was then that she realized that in the heat of the argument, they had moved a bit too close to one another. Awkwardly, she turned around to face Slughorn, only to brush her knees against Tom's, making her feel even more uncomfortable in the situation she was in.

"Wonderful discussion, Hermione, Tom. As much as I would like to listen to the rest of your points, we should get started on the potion for today," the professor told them with an amiable smile.

He then went on to describe the effects and ingredients of the potion they were brewing for the class. Soon, half of the class was rushing over to the supply closet.

Surprisingly, Tom offered to get the ingredients. Later, when Hermione thought about this in retrospect, she figured that it must have been his way to maintain his polite façade.

While she prepared the star lily sap and Tom set up their cauldron, it suddenly occurred to her that it had never been like this in the future. For the first time, since the initial joy of knowing about Hogwarts, she felt her blood boiling with an unexplained excitement. She had never worked with someone in Potions class the way she was working with Tom. It was almost as if they were _**equals**_. It seemed almost ridiculous, being equal in status with Lord Voldemort, yet that was what she felt. She had never had intellectual debates with someone in the future; she had been dubbed the insufferable know-it-all, thanks to Snape.

Her eyes slid over Tom's hands which were now pulling the Sparkling Agile Flowers apart. She had never worked with someone like this. _**She**_ had always been the one that was supposed to do the work. Harry and Ron … well, they never cared enough to help her if they didn't have to. However, with Tom, it was different. It was almost invigorating …

"Miss Granger, are you going to add the star lily sap?" Tom asked, disturbing her thoughts again.

She glanced at him abruptly before her eyes flickered over to the bubbling cauldron.

"Oh, sorry," she mumbled her apology, pouring the sap into the cauldron.

Focusing her attention on the instructions, she quickly chopped up the dried ginger. She reached out to drop it into the cauldron when she suddenly brushed her hand against something.

It was _**his**_ hand.

Without warning, she felt her cheeks becoming warmer and she quickly pulled her hand back.

Tom, on the other hand, had an unreadable expression on his face as he stared at the place where they had made contact. She almost wished that he throw a snide comment at her, like the Draco in the past would have done.

However, this was Tom Riddle and not Draco Malfoy.

Seconds later, he dropped the ingredients he was preparing into the cauldron without saying a word.

_Earth to Hermione. It's not the first time you've had contact with him._

Yet, something seemed different. Something in her mind and heart seemed to beat to a different rhythm with that brief contact. She couldn't name it. She didn't know _**what**_ to name it, but she knew it was somehow different. She didn't understand it and she didn't know which book could tell her the answers, but she knew that she was thoroughly shaken by it.

For the rest of the class, Hermione spent most of the time avoiding contact with him again, although she hardly had to worry since he was doing the same thing.

By the end of the class, she was almost glad that she knew who he would become in the future. It was, after all, the only thing that stopped her from being hypnotized by the colors and motions of a deadly serpent.

~-0-~

She could easily deduce that the female population at Hogwarts did not like the rumors about her and Tom. Nevertheless, Hermione didn't have a clue how bad it was until Gareth and Joseph warned her about drinking from the goblets in the Great Hall.

"Those girls, you see the ones that are bunched together at the Ravenclaw table?" Joseph whispered, when she sat next to him the next morning.

She was more surprised to find Slytherins amongst the Ravenclaws than the fact that they were gathered together.

"They were swarming around this area before you came in."

Hermione frowned but took heed to his warning. His suspicions were proven true when Lilian Brown started coughing up beetles after drinking from one of the goblets. Hermione's eyes widened as the girl started to twitch on the floor and the professors rushed over to their table. They ended up levitating the girl to the Infirmary since no one was willing to touch her.

"Told you," Joseph said with a shudder. "I'd be careful if I were you. The girls who fancy Riddle can be quite scary sometimes, especially if they believe that you're winning his heart."

A disgusted expression appeared on Hermione's face which earned a round of laughter from Joseph.

However, she soon learned that "scary" was not the right adjective for the girls. "Terrifying" might be a better description. Everywhere she went, there were some type of booby trap waiting for her. Some of these traps made what happened to Lilian seem like some sort of infants' play. Although the professors attempted to stop these pranks, the culprits seemed to always find a way to secretly set up the ambushes.

The incident that caused a shiver to go down her spine happened when she was helping one of the professors. Hermione was passing by the Quidditch Pitch when Madam Frost (the current flying instructor) asked her to bring a couple of extra broomsticks for the first-years.

As Hermione opened the cupboard, she was suddenly pulled back as a jar crashed onto the floor where she had previously been standing. She turned around to thank her savior and was more than surprised to find that it was Tom who had saved her from a possible concussion.

"I was wondering who Melantha Parkinson was trying to attack with a jar full of potions," he mused, raising an eyebrow at the shattered jar.

"Melantha Parkinson?" she asked, looking at the liquid on the floor—or rather, a blob—and ignoring the little flip-flops that her stomach made on contact with him. The blob reminded Hermione of jelly, except that it was brownish-black. "And what _**is**_ that?"

"Iris's younger sister and that," Tom answered nonchalantly as he released her from his hold, "is a mixture of Dark potions, ranging from Potion of Athena to Magalski's Brew."

Hermione shuddered involuntarily. She had read about them in _Moste Potente Potions_ while she was brewing the Polyjuice Potion back in second year. Potion of Athena would make all the hair on her body transform into poisonous snakes while Magalski's Brew would cause severe damage to the internal organs without leaving a trace on the skin. She did not want to know what other potions might be in the blob.

"But why ..." she trailed off, staring at Tom in confusion.

"Melantha believes that you are the one who harmed her sister," he answered.

"But I was in the Infirmary at that time! It doesn't make any sense!" she protested.

"Never try to make sense of a woman who has her mind set on something," he stated softly.

Hermione frowned, wondering if he was trying to insinuate something.

An amused expression appeared on his face. "Her family knows quite a bit about the Dark Arts."

"I could've guessed that much," Hermione replied grimly, glancing at the blob on the floor. "Why would she think that it was me who harmed her sister?"

"Iris was harmed by powerful magic. Unless it was one of the teachers, it would have to be one of the more intelligent students," he explained.

"There are plenty of students who are intelligent," she pointed out.

His lips curved into a rather vicious smile, "Because you have a lot more ... history with her than the rest of us." He then conjured a bottle in his hand and flicked his wand towards the blob to levitate it into the bottle.

"History?" she asked, thoroughly confused again.

As if her bewilderment was his entertainment, he threw another smirk in her direction before leaving her alone in the hallway.

~-0-~

As Hermione sat in the Gryffindor common room trying to finish her Astronomy homework, her mind drifted off to what Tom had told her in the hallways that day. She wondered if she should alert the professors about what had happened, although knowing the Slytherins, Melantha probably had some sort of excuse ready for them.

"Gareth!" she called out to the redhead who was playing pranks on two of the second years.

He looked up questioningly before approaching her with Joseph.

"What is it, Hermione?" he asked.

"Well ... you do know about the rumors in the school ..." she started to say slowly.

"He hears more gossip than most women," Joseph snickered.

Gareth elbowed him in the stomach as Hermione laughed.

"So what do you want to know? According to my sources, Tom doesn't have a girlfriend. Or girlfriends, if that's what you're worried about," he reported, winking at her in a way that strongly reminded her of Slughorn.

"Why would I care about how many girlfriends he has?" Hermione scrunched up her face as Joseph snorted.

"You really don't like him, do you?" he asked.

"Of course not," she shook her head. She bit her lower lip. "Are there any rumors about Iris and me?"

"Iris?" Gareth asked, his eyebrows furrowing.

Hermione nodded.

"As in Iris Parkinson?" Joseph questioned.

She nodded again.

He looked at her in shock. "You mean, you don't know?"

"Know … what?" she asked uncertainly.

"Well …" Joseph glanced at Gareth.

The latter sighed. "Some girls from Slytherin were giggling about it in the bathroom two days after you got those boils," Gareth replied.

"About what?" she inquired, a sinking feeling in her stomach.

Gareth gave her a weak smile.

"She was responsible for the … er … rainbow boils. Iris was the one who added the potion to your pumpkin juice."

~-0-~

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **A/N:** Thanks to my betas: Lildaani, Noybate, Hajnalmadar, and matterhorn.


	14. Chapter 14

**Chapter 14**

Hermione wasn't sure how she _**should**_ react to the news that Iris was the culprit behind her "colorful experience." On the one hand, the spiteful part of her was happy that the annoying witch got what she deserved. On the other hand, the righteous side of her reprimanded her for wishing ill on others. Then again, there was nothing that dictated that Gryffindors _**could not**_ be vindictive, and strictly speaking, she had nothing to do with what had happened to Iris Parkinson.

So with that thought in mind, she continued through her school days with the same determination to outshine the Heir of Slytherin in their classes. After all, saving her and competing with her in schoolwork were two different things.

One of the advantages of the rumors was that Abraxas was now wary about saying nasty things to her. Although she found it strange that Tom had not explained to his Knights what had happened, she decided to enjoy it while she could. She supposed that the Master of All Things Evil just could not be bothered by something as petty as clarifying his actions to his followers.

The rumor did prove to her, however, that Slughorn was a radio posing as a wizard. The rest of the professors were being exceptionally nice to her, and she suspected that it was because they thought that she was Tom's girlfriend. At least they were discreet about it. When the teacher in question was Slughorn or Merrythought, however, it was a completely different story.

Slughorn was always alluding to the supposed love affair between Tom and her while occasionally winking in her direction. The class, of course, would always end with most of the girls glaring at her and whispering amongst themselves. Merrythought was, unfortunately, even worse than the Potions professor.

"Now, let's separate into pairs to practice. Please aim at the pillows tied to your partner's body only. Although we're not vampires, the spell will still sting," Merrythought said.

Hermione sighed, preparing herself for another brutal combat with Augusta. She silently waited while the professor paired off the people in class.

She blinked in surprise when Augusta was paired with Alphard instead.

"Hermione, will you please work with Tom?" Merrythought asked, smiling at her encouragingly. The smile, strangely enough, reminded her of Umbridge.

The rest of the class fell silent. Augusta folded her arms over her chest and smirked, obviously pleased with the situation in which Hermione found herself. Alphard raised an eyebrow, and a mixture of amusement and worry appeared on Draco's face. The only noise in the room was the muffled snickers from Gareth and Joseph. Most of the girls were either glaring at her or at Merrythought.

"… It's alright, Professor. I can work with Alphard," she suggested, hoping that the professor would say yes.

"My dear, it's not a problem! I was just worried about you falling behind in your work. As long as you keep up your grades, I don't mind the two of you working together," she assured the annoyed Hermione. "And now ... I'm definitely sure that you will keep your grades in mind instead of your...personal affairs. Excellent."

Hermione almost groaned out loud when a few more girls redirected their glares towards her. Gareth and Joseph were now audibly guffawing in the corner.

She turned around just in time to see Abraxas whisper something to Tom. The latter shot an annoyed look at the blond which allowed Hermione to guess what Abraxas had asked. She took a deep breath and walked over to them.

"You're not going to explain to her?" Tom questioned in mock horror.

Hermione narrowed her eyes at him, not quite sure any longer who irritated her more, Tom or Merrythought.

"I'd rather work with you than have her going on and on about what a lovely couple we would make," she replied, tapping her feet on the floor.

Abraxas snorted, which earned glowers from both Tom and Hermione. His laugh quickly turned into hacking coughs.

With a curt nod, Tom pulled out his wand. Abraxas smirked at Hermione as he strutted towards Draco. She suddenly had an urge to hex him and was more than delighted to find the professor with her back turned towards them.

Before she could do anything, however, Tom aimed his wand at her. She was just deciding if she should retaliate with a curse of her own or take cover when he uttered a spell that thoroughly surprised her.

" _Protego_."

She whirled around after a spell impacted with the shield he had conjured and found two Slytherin girls standing behind her, both looking guiltily at Tom.

"I find it hard to believe that you were actually practicing, Rosetta, when Miss Granger is clearly on the opposite side of the room from your target," Tom stated quietly.

Hermione stood there in shock for a few seconds, attempting to digest the fact that he, Lord Voldemort, had saved her twice within the last couple of days. It was downright alarming and what bothered her even more was the fact that she could not find an explanation for his behavior.

"Tom …" Rosetta started to say.

Tom narrowed his eyes at them and Hermione suddenly felt sorry for the two girls. She certainly would not want to be at the receiving end of that look. An uncomfortable silence settled on the four of them, and the two girls slowly began to fidget because of it.

"The last thing I want is to perpetuate the idea that Slytherins need to resort to cursing their enemies from behind," he finally said.

Hermione almost laughed out loud.

Oh, really? He was one to talk, setting up traps for others and using the Unforgivables more times than she could count. Then again, he was probably just saying that to maintain his façade while he was at Hogwarts. The show was apparently quite effective, seeing how everyone loved him.

Well, except for those who knew better, such as Dumbledore.

"Let's go over to that side," Tom said, pushing her gently towards where Abraxas, Draco, Gareth, and Joseph were practicing. It was something she found quite odd, since the four of them were hardly fond of one another. She found out the answer once she was close enough to hear the conversation between Joseph and Abraxas.

"Oh, I'm sure you're good at dueling, Malfoy. But I could beat you with my eyes closed," Joseph whispered, rolling his eyes and pretending to be practicing the spell with Gareth.

"Bugger off, Potter. You can't even cast a spell with your eyes _**open**_ ," Abraxas sneered, randomly throwing spells at Draco.

Hermione and Draco exchanged a look. It seemed that the rivalry between Harry and Draco ran all the way back to their ancestors.

"I forget, who was the one with a burning arse back in second year?" Joseph sniggered.

"At least I wasn't the one with a duck's bill and frog legs," Abraxas drawled. Hermione raised her eyebrows, wondering what parents were teaching their children at home.

Most eleven-year-olds arrived at Hogwarts knowing next to nothing about casting magic.

"I suggest that the two of you return your attention to the lesson. I don't think Augusta particularly likes the idea of dodging your spells while she's trying to cast one of her own," Tom suggested.

Hermione turned around and found Augusta smiling gratefully at Tom before throwing angry glances at Joseph and Abraxas.

Tom gave Augusta a faint smile before walking approximately five feet away from Hermione.

"Shall we begin?" he asked, facing her.

Hermione nodded and he motioned for her to attack first.

" _Lamia Incideria_!" she chanted, waving her wand.

Tom easily deflected it.

"Concentrate, Miss Granger," he said, furrowing his eyebrows a bit, as if he was seeing something distasteful.

"I am," she replied, frowning at the suggestion.

"Are you really?" he raised an eyebrow at her, casting a spell at her. The spell was noticeably faster than hers, and she did not even have the chance to deflect it. "I think otherwise."

She bit back a remark and cast the spell at him once more. Again, her spell was deflected and Tom shook his head.

"Being irritated will only make you lose focus, Miss Granger. If you don't concentrate on what you're doing, not only will you cast your spells poorly, but you could also be hit by a truly dangerous spell one of these days. Don't expect someone to save you every time."

She wanted to argue that she _**was**_ focusing on the spell, but he had already cast another spell towards her. Before she could finish casting the Shield Charm, Tom's spell collided with her arm. She hissed from the unpleasant stinging sensation rapidly traveling up her arm. At the same time, Merrythought asked them to return to their seats.

"Are you alright?" Tom asked, walking up to her. Any traces of sincerity were diminished by the smirk on his face.

"Splendid," she muttered, pocketing her wand and returning to her seat.

As the students filed out of the class after Merrythought assigned them their homework, Hermione decided that Tom Marvolo Riddle was quickly approaching the first place on her list of most annoying witches and wizards.

~-0-~

Hermione plopped onto her bed that night, waiting for the stinging to go away. Merrythought reassured her that it would stop in a few hours, but unfortunately, it hadn't gone away yet. It was rather gratifying to watch the professor scold Tom for "being hostile to his girlfriend", even if Hermione had to endure her new "title."

Grudgingly, she had to admit that Tom was brilliant at magic. She had never dueled with someone as skilled as he was. Bellatrix was almost nothing compared to him, and he was only seventeen. She had to admit that Harry was very lucky to have had all the help he had gotten to fight against Lord Voldemort.

 _And he_ **is** _quite good-looking when he's performing magic_ , the thought sneaked into her mind. _Much better looking than Lockhart with those made up spells. And the brooding look … although it looked good on Krum, with him it's just …_

Shaking her head and scrunching up her face in disgust at what she was thinking, she flipped over to lie on her back as she imagined herself stuffing a large textbook down the Lord Voldemort's throat. Suddenly, she heard a tapping at the windows. It turned out to be an owl, carrying a letter on its leg. She opened the window and allowed it to enter the room. After giving it an owl treat and bidding it goodbye, she sat down on her bed and opened the letter. To her delight, it was from Harry.

_Dear Hermione,_

_I'm still at St. Mungo's with Ginny, but I figured you might want an update about what's going on with her._

_The Healer told me that she was indeed hurt by Dark magic and possibly force-fed some illegal potions. Ginny's not in any immediate danger right now, but the Healer said that she probably won't wake up without the correct antidotes to the potions. Without that knowledge, they don't want to risk feeding her random potions. The last traces of Dark magic were successfully removed two days ago (by the way, the Healer praised Madam Pomfrey for her great handling of the situation; it could've been much worse without the care she had given Ginny)._

_I hope that everything's okay back at Hogwarts. Is Malloy doing anything stupid to you? If he is, tell me and I will curse his arse off when I return to school._

Hermione smiled at Harry's concern. She realized that he must have tried his best to sound unconcerned while he was writing the letter, but she knew him too well to be deceived. It was quite clear that he was still worried sick about Ginny since she had not woken up yet.

_By the way, did Dumbledore find out anything about our situation? I really don't fancy continuing our little adventure._

_Harry_

_P.S. Don't get yourself killed._

She grimaced at the postscript. He simply did not understand that Tom Marvolo Riddle was not someone who could be easily ignored, especially when he held some sort of interest in you.

_And when you're being called his girlfriend ..._

Hermione groaned at the thought, feeling that everything was just going haywire around her.

And her arm was still stinging.

With a sigh, she decided that she should probably see Madam Pomfrey. The letter to Harry would have to wait.

~-0-~

As she walked through the hallways, she continuously shook her arm, trying to get rid of that stinging feeling. She shook her head and sighed when she saw three Gryffindors and three Slytherins rush towards the Infirmary. There had obviously been another battle between the members of the two Houses.

Suddenly, she was pulled into a classroom. Out of reflex, Hermione immediately approximated where the person behind her was and kicked, causing the person to grunt in pain and release her. She pulled her wand out and was about to hex him when she recognized who it was.

"Alphard," she stared at him. "You scared me!"

"I'm sorry," he grimaced, rubbing his leg where Hermione had kicked him. "A couple of Slytherin girls are down the hall, setting up some kind of trap again. They realized that you might go to Madam Pomfrey after being hit by Riddle's spell."

Hermione sighed and sat down on one of the desks. "They just don't know when to stop, do they?"

Alphard smirked and studied her face for a few minutes.

"Do you really fancy him?" he asked.

She looked at him incredulously. "Have you gone mad? Of course not!"

He raised an eyebrow at her. "I've been hearing otherwise."

"Well, whatever rumors you're hearing are wrong," she said firmly. "Slughorn thought we were meeting one another, but Tom simply caught me when I was walking back to the dormitories from Dumbledore's office."

"I wasn't talking about that," Alphard replied.

"Then what?"

"Well," he replied, picking out a desk and sitting on top of it, "there are a few more rumors going around the school. I'm surprised you haven't heard them."

"Well, I'm mostly around Harry and Ginny. I really didn't have the chance to make new friends. And you already know about my wonderful friendship with Augusta Rookwood," Hermione rolled her eyes.

Alphard snorted.

"I should be thankful that I'm not being hexed while I'm sleeping. Do you really think any of them are willing to befriend me? Gareth and Joseph are always gossiping, but they never tell me about the rumors unless I ask."

"Weasley seems to be quite fond of that idea; about you and Tom becoming an item, that is," Alphard observed.

She nodded, a bit annoyed that her boyfriend's relative was trying to set her up with someone else. And the Dark Lord, no less.

"So, what are these rumors?" she asked carefully, hoping that they weren't as bad as she thought they were.

"Well, we all know the rumors about the two of you fancying one another," Alphard answered.

Hermione snorted. "I would think that it was obvious that he wouldn't be attracted to someone like me. The girl he'd be attracted to would probably have to be some Veela's descendent or something."

Alphard laughed and shook his head. "You're talking about Malfoy, not Riddle. Riddle's not fond of pretty girls without brains. You don't see him being overly nice to Iris."

"Perhaps she's just not his type."

"Come on, Hermione. You have to admit that he's nicer to you than to other girls."

At this statement, she could feel her face getting warmer. She was thankful that the room was quite dark, preventing Alphard from seeing the suspicious flush on her cheeks.

"He's probably just curious about us … me, Harry, Ginny, and Draco, that is," she replied.

"I highly doubt that, but if that explanation makes you feel better, that's fine with me," he laughed.

"Oh, and we did fall on top of him when we first arrived," she added, laughing gently at the memory.

"I was going to ask you about that. Why did you suddenly fall out of the skies? I've heard rumors about the four of you traveling by Portkey, but if that's true, there should have been someone there to monitor it. Or at least Dumbledore would've marked off some area so nobody would get hurt," he said, watching her with curiosity written all over his face.

Hermione bit her lower lip and glanced at him, wondering if she could trust him. He _**was**_ the person who would give money to Sirius so he could run away from home. Then again, Draco didn't even trust his own grandfather. Just how much information could she give Alphard Black without harming the four of them?

"It's alright if you don't want to tell me," he said with a shrug when she did not answer him. "Everyone has their own secrets."

"It's not … that. It's a long story. I'll tell you … after I talk about it with Harry and Ginny … when they come back," she replied. That way, she didn't have to lie or tell the truth.

"Hey, I don't mind," he smiled. "I'm already grateful that you trust a Slytherin. I can't ask for more."

She returned his smile. "Anyway, back to the rumors?"

"Oh ..." he frowned. "There was this rumor about a library date between the two of you?"

"A _**what**_?"

"The time when you screamed his name? Some girls said that it was because he wouldn't kiss you because you didn't brush your teeth that day," he replied, the laughter apparent in his eyes.

She stared. Sooner or later, they would start spreading rumors even if she just happened to walk through the hallways with Tom.

"Alphard—"

Her explanation was cut short when the door swung open, and the other subject of the rumors appeared at the doorway.

Tom raised an eyebrow at the pair, "Good evening."

"Good evening," the two of them murmured. He gazed around the classroom.

"Quite a gloomy place to meet," he commented, folding his arms across his chest.

"We were just talking," Hermione replied, wondering why she bothered explaining herself to him anyway.

The three of them fell silent, each of them either immersed in their own thoughts or looking at the others. The atmosphere was not exactly hostile, nor was it welcoming. It was almost like a scene from the jungles, in which wild beasts sized each other up before making a decision.

The decision to attack or to make peace with the opposite party.

It was a strange thought. Although Tom had saved her twice in a row (which threw her into a dilemma since she did not know how she should treat him anymore), it was a given fact that there could never be peace between him and her. Harry and he were destined to be mortal enemies. Since she was Harry's best friend and a Muggle-born, she would naturally have to fight against him.

Always.

"You will serve your first detention this Thursday night," Tom suddenly spoke up, breaking the silence.

Hermione frowned, frustrated that she was forced to spend more time than necessary with him.

"Fine," she muttered, sliding off the desk. Patting away the dust that had attached itself to her skirt, she glanced at Tom. "Er …"

His eyes slid over to her.

"I was just wondering … did you get to talk to Slughorn yet? About the … you know …"

Hermione thought she saw his eyes flicker for a second, but then decided that it was her imagination; the light in the room was too dim for her to possibly see his expression, let alone his eyes.

"I haven't had the chance to speak to him yet," he replied, leaning against the edge of the doorframe.

 _Great. That means that I still have to watch my back wherever I'm going_ , Hermione thought as she rubbed her arm, which was starting to feel numb from the stinging.

Tom's eyes landed on her hand, and she quickly dropped it to the side.

"My apologies," he said. The mockery in his words was so undisguised that it led Hermione to believe that he was probably not putting up any pretense in front of her any longer. "I wasn't aiming for your arm. I thought you would've known better than to try to block the spell with your hand—"

"I _**wasn't**_ trying to block it with my hand," she cut in.

It was getting harder and harder for her to control her temper, even though she knew it might be fatal if she decided to take a swipe at him; she couldn't help it. It seemed as if he was quite set on aggravating her.

"I was going to cast the Shield Charm, if you hadn't noticed. It required my arm to be where it was."

She then quickly walked past him, determined to leave the room before she did some irreversible damage.

And the attacks she had in mind were not limited to verbal ones any longer.

Wringing the neck of the future Dark Lord was such a tempting thought. It would save Harry plenty of trouble, too.

Her stride was cut short when she accidentally crashed into someone upon leaving the classroom.

"Attempting to vent your anger on me, Granger?" the person drawled. She looked up and found herself looking into the stormy grey eyes of Draco.

"What are you doing here?" she asked.

An amused expression appeared on his face as she detangled herself from his arms. "I happen to live in this castle, too, Granger. It's not past curfew so I—" he stopped talking when Hermione backed up into someone behind her.

She shot him an annoyed glance when he snorted at her clumsiness.

"Please do attempt to watch where you're going, Miss Granger," the familiar voice of Tom Marvolo Riddle sounded from above her.

She turned her head and found herself in his arms. All of a sudden, the tingling feeling seemed to spread to the rest of her body. Somewhere in the back of her mind, a little voice was telling her that it had nothing to do with the curse. She promptly told the voice to shove it while she quickly moved as far away from him as possible.

Draco coughed gently, causing Hermione to look at him. She became apprehensive when she noticed the sympathetic look in his eyes before he glanced to the right. Bracing herself, she followed his line of sight.

A group of girls were standing at the corner.

And she couldn't find one who wasn't glaring at her.

_P.S. Don't get yourself killed._

She did not know if she should laugh or cry at the irony of her best friend's postscript.

~-0-~

The next day in classes, Hermione was suddenly reminded of her first year at Hogwarts. Until the incident with the troll, she had had no friends. Of course, in this time period, Draco and Alphard could be considered her friends, but since they were both in Slytherin, they hardly had the time to hold any long conversations with her. Nevertheless, she still appreciated the sympathy they had shown her when she was being harassed by Tom's admirers.

"You filthy troll. Go back to your old school and stop trying to seduce _**our**_ men," a girl hissed at her while she was walking to the History of Magic classroom.

Hermione raised her eyebrows at the two girls blocking her way. She was getting accustomed to the foul terms used against her, but it was the first time a Ravenclaw had openly displayed hostility towards her.

"Is that the best you can do?" she asked slowly. "The Slytherins called me that at least thirteen times already today. I thought Ravenclaws were supposed to be intelligent. Perhaps you should think of something different instead of copying other people."

The girl looked at her furiously.

"Come on, Mildred. Did you honestly believe that someone like _**her**_ would feel ashamed?" the other Ravenclaw sneered.

Hermione sighed as the two of them stalked away.

"That's the Parkinson sisters' cousin," a voice suddenly said behind her.

She turned around and found herself looking at Gareth and Joseph.

"Iris's cousin?" she asked.

Gareth nodded in reply. Joseph clicked his tongue and shook his head at her.

"Hermione, Hermione. I never knew you were so ... _wild_ in nature," he commented.

"Oh, shut it, Joseph. You know that they're just misinterpreting things," she huffed while Gareth laughed.

"But it's fun teasing you about it," he grinned.

"I thought that _**you**_ didn't like Riddle," Hermione stared pointedly at Joseph. In a lower voice, Hermione hissed, "I thought you even suspected that he was the one who killed Myrtle."

"Well, I didn't really _**mean**_ that," Joseph said uneasily, not liking the fact that he was placed on the spot. "I meant that Riddle had more reasons to do in Myrtle than Hagrid did. You know ... it's more like a _**speculation**_."

Hermione narrowed her eyes at him, wondering how her Harry, who was so steadfast in his opposition to Voldemort, could be descended from this waffler. She was just considering whether she should scold him or simply ignore him when Joseph's features brightened.

"And as I said, it's fun teasing you about it. It's not like I really believed you liked Riddle ... unlike Mr. Gareth Weasley here."

Hermione rolled her eyes when Joseph chuckled.

"You do happen to know that he's immensely fond of rumors?" he asked.

"Yes. As a matter of fact, I know quite well about that," she said through gritted teeth.

"He was going on all night about setting you up for a date with Tom for the next Hogsmeade trip," Joseph said.

" _ **What**_?" she exclaimed, whirling around and glaring at the redhead. "Gareth Weasley!"

"Hermione, I know you like him. He seems attracted to you enough, so why not?" Gareth immediately asked.

He was being too nosy, but it just did not feel right telling him that directly.

"Gareth, I don't like him in that way. Yes, he's charming, handsome, and intelligent, but I have a boyfriend already," she explained, purposely ignoring his comment about Tom liking her.

"You do?" Joseph and Gareth asked in unison.

"Yes," she answered.

She would've laughed in any other situation. However, she felt something squeezing her heart when she thought about Ron. The fact that she was thinking less and less about him with each passing day frightened her. It was just not like her, and she didn't want to think about what was causing these changes in her.

Hermione shook her head, attempting to push away those negative feelings. Without Harry and Ginny, she felt more isolated than ever.

And she wondered just how much longer she could hold up her defenses.

~-0-~

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **A/N** : Many thanks to my betas: Lildaani, Noybate, matterhorn, and Aling.


	15. Chapter 15

**Chapter 15**

As the students entered the Defense classroom on Tuesday, their excitement was readily apparent from their bright expressions and eager chatter. It was Hunting Day, arguably one of the most anticipated classes. Professor Merrythought was, as usual, sitting behind her desk. When all students had arrived, she stood up and motioned for them to follow her.

Curious murmurs erupted amongst the students, and from bits and pieces of different conversations, Hermione gathered that this was a different classroom from their regular one. The talking stopped when Merrythought turned around to face them.

"Someone broke into our regular room last night—"

The students broke out into another wave of mutters, and Merrythought had to speak a little louder to make herself heard.

"—and damaged some of the magical foundations in there. Therefore, we will be practicing here instead."

With a wave of her wand, the classroom door opened.

"Probably to take off the wards on the room," Joseph muttered to Hermione.

She nodded in agreement, her eyes unconsciously sliding over to Tom who was listening attentively to Antonin Dolohov's whispered comments. She wondered if they were the ones who had broken into the Hunting Day room, although she had no idea why they would do something like that. There couldn't be anything in there that would hold their interest.

"Hermione, Tom, Abraxas, and Joseph, will the four of you enter first?" Merrythought asked.

Augusta narrowed her eyes at Hermione before nudging her twin and whispering something into his ear.

"Yes, Professor," they chorused.

"Now remember: no dueling. Although I will not be in there to monitor your movements, any spells that are cast inside the room and the name of the person who cast the spell will be detected and recorded," Merrythought warned, levitating protective pads over to the four of them and gazing pointedly at Abraxas and Joseph.

As they entered the classroom, it didn't escape Hermione's notice that the two of them kept their eyes on one another.

Once the door closed behind them, the two young men rounded on one another.

"Boys!" Hermione all but screeched. She did not understand why Professor Merrythought would send the two of them in together if she knew that they were bound to duel one another.

"Go on then, Malfoy. I dare you," Joseph taunted, flicking his wand toward Abraxas without casting any spells of his own yet.

"Professor Merrythought warned us not to duel—"

"And she won't know unless you, Granger, decide to tell," Abraxas narrowed his eyes at her.

"But—"

"As long as neither of them use dueling spells, Merrythought will never find out," Tom said.

She jumped slightly, having forgotten that he was standing behind her until he spoke.

"But—"

"We might as well stay clear of these two floors and start searching for the creatures on the third floor first. They should be through by the time we are," he suggested, steering her toward the staircase.

"But—"

"You've already tried to talk them out of it, Miss Granger," Tom said as the two young men behind them started to throw hexes at one another.

He turned her around and stared in her eyes. She promptly concentrated on his nose.

A faint smile appeared on his face and he continued, "You can't be held at fault. It's their decision and you can't do anything about it."

"But—"

"Let's go," he quietly commanded.

Hermione had no idea why she did as she was told, but it was almost like some kind of natural _**instinct**_. It was annoying that he had that kind of power over her. As they reached the top of the stairs of the second floor, she continued to admonish herself, until a cool breeze swept over her and caught her attention.

Dried leaves danced reluctantly in circles on the floor, almost as if they were being dragged by a small whirlwind. Abandoned chairs sat next to the window, half covered by curtains and accompanied by a small wooden table. Cobwebs, nestling in the corners of the ceiling and lining the tea set on the table, moved only slightly as a draft whistled past them. Blurred portraits lined the walls, covering what would have been peeling wallpaper.

It took a moment for Hermione to remember that she was in a magical environment and portraits hardly ever blurred due to their magical properties. She was reminded of the haunted houses in movies, and she would hardly be surprised if a ghost floated past the window.

"This is your first Hunting Day, isn't it?" Tom asked. "The door will reopen when we either run out of time or find all the creatures in this building. The strength of the creatures that we find here are directly proportional to our magical competence, which is why Merrythought let Abraxas and Mr. Potter in here together despite their differences," he explained after she nodded, answering her unasked question.

No wonder Augusta seemed so unhappy about Merrythought's arrangement.

"What about the other students?" Hermione questioned.

"This classroom has been magically altered. Most likely, other students are in another so-called 'building' right now."

"Sort of like different dimensions?"

He nodded. "Very much so. If I am not mistaken, the creatures that we encounter here will be from levels eight to ten—"

"On what scale?" she cut in.

He raised an eyebrow at her. "On a scale of one to ten, of course, with ten being the highest."

"And whose scale is this?"

"Merrythought's."

"How did she rank them?"

"By the amount of time it will take her to recapture the creatures and how dangerous they are," Tom answered. He tapped his wand on his hand. "I'll take the door to the left."

"We're taking different paths?" she asked, slightly alarmed.

"Naturally, Miss Granger. This isn't a group project," he said, the mockery apparent in his words.

She blinked, taken aback by his attitude. She had thought that he wanted to maintain that disgustingly innocent and angelic look in front of others. Then again, as strange as it sounded, it seemed as if he was dropping his façade when no one else was around. It was as disturbing as it was surprising.

"Of course," she answered stonily, pulling out her wand. "I'll take the door to the right."

With what seemed suspiciously like a smirk, he whirled around and disappeared through the door. Swallowing hard, she turned, and with determined steps, strode towards the door to the right. If anything, she did not want to act like a coward in front of _**Riddle**_.

The atmosphere of the room behind the door was similar to the previous room, although the furniture was much different. A large king-sized bed was placed against the wall next to the door she had entered through. Across the room from the bed was an ivory-colored table, complete with a mirror covered with cobwebs and dust. A large wardrobe of the same color stood beside the vanity table. The chair in front of the table seemed to be missing.

She hesitantly walked further into the room and was startled by the door slamming shut loudly behind her.

She narrowed her eyes. For Merlin's _sake_ , she was a _**Gryffindor**_. If they wanted to frighten her, it would take much more than a simple door slamming shut. A bit miffed by the lurking creatures, she huffed and started to search the room, her actions towards the furniture more aggressive than they would have been under normal conditions.

Unfortunately, other than a regular boggart in the closet, she couldn't find anything else—although she had to admit that she did get a scare when it transformed into Tom with flashing red eyes and started telling her that not only was he fifty points ahead of her in every single class, but he also knew her secrets.

Thankfully, it wasn't too hard, thinking of something funny for the bogus Dark Lord; recalling how Neville had dealt with _**his**_ boggart, she simply imagined Tom wearing the dress that Pansy had worn to the Yule Ball.

Rolling her eyes, she continued through the doors until she met up with Tom in one of the hallways.

"Did you find everything?" Tom asked.

"I think so. There weren't too many creatures though," she replied, quite annoyed by this point.

"Typical of Merrythought. I think most of the creatures will be concentrated on the fifth floor."

Hermione snorted, "What's the point of so many floors if they're all concentrated on one floor?"

"Your guess is as good as mine," he answered.

The fourth floor was more or less the same as the third floor and by this time, Hermione had a feeling that Tom was correct in saying that the true dangers lay on the last floor.

"Ready?" he questioned, a hint of wickedness working its way into his words and smile as they stood in front of the stairs that led to the fifth floor.

"Whenever you are," she answered, a challenge in her eyes.

He raised an eyebrow and proceeded to lead the way upwards. The stairs groaned with each step they took, and Hermione nearly screamed when a black shadow jumped down in front of them once they reached the top.

Tom immediately cast a spell at it, immobilizing and banishing it completely before Hermione had a chance to clearly register what the creature was. He glanced at her from the corner of his eye.

"I'm utterly amazed at how prepared you are," he commented sarcastically, a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips.

Hermione opened and closed her mouth a few times, humiliation pulling on the end of her nerves and changing into anger as soon as his words registered in her mind.

"I—" She stopped in her words and nibbled her lower lip, determined not to jump on his bait and give him a chance to hold something against her.

"Shall we continue?" he asked, ignoring her silence.

She nodded stiffly and was about to walk toward the door to the right when he stopped her.

"I suggest that we go through the rooms together," he said, his dark eyes impassive once again.

She eyed him suspiciously. "I think it would be faster to continue doing it the way we were."

"Perhaps I should remind you that the creatures here are—"

"I know," she cut in. "I heard you the first time you told me. I think we can handle the creatures by ourselves."

He looked at her without saying a word for a few minutes, and she stared determinedly back, a stubborn expression on her face.

"As you wish," he finally smiled, bowing slightly to her before he exited through the door to the left.

For a moment, Hermione considered running after him. For some reason, the expression on his face before he left made her feel uneasy. She attempted to shake that feeling off, but there was still a nagging feeling that she was making the wrong choice.

Heaving a sigh, she slowly made her way towards the door on the right, looking in all directions with every step she took. Soft whispers coming from behind the door caused the hair on the back of her neck to stand up. With a flick of her wand, the door opened and she entered the room. After clearing the next two areas of its creatures (three Erklings, one particularly nasty mummy, two Pogrebins, and two Yetis), she was seriously doubting Merrythought's sanity as she entered the next room.

It was identical to the room on the third floor where she had found the boggart and, as it had before, the door slammed shut when she walked further in. This time, however, there was an ominous feeling that had not been present in the previous rooms.

Her eyes darted around, taking in the environment around her. A shriek echoed throughout the house, momentarily startling her. She amused herself for a minute, imagining that it was Riddle who had made that sound, and then quickly brought her attention back to the room. With careful steps, she walked toward the table.

She was about to open the drawer when something in the mirror caught her eyes. She immediately turned around. The specific page on mirror ghouls entered her mind a moment too late, and she promptly screamed when a pair of dark, hairy arms grabbed her by the shoulders and pulled her toward the mirror.

" _Confringo_!" Hermione yelled, pointing her wand backwards.

She immediately moved forward when she was released and turned toward the mirror ghoul, which had jumped aside to avoid the spell. Mirror ghouls were generally invisible when they were hiding inside mirrors, and they had the ability to alter the reflections in the mirror. When the person standing in front of it was caught unawares, the mirror ghoul would drag the person into the mirror and devour them.

_Teenage years, most likely fourteen to sixteen years old from its height; reddish hair, female._

Suddenly, the growling behind alerted her that what she saw in the mirror was probably not an illusion, and she and the mirror ghoul were not the only occupants of the room. Panting slightly, she turned her body so she was facing both creatures at the same time. She nearly groaned when she noticed that it was yet another pair of Yetis.

_Wonder if professors here have a pension plan. If they do, I seriously hope they consider subtracting a huge amount from Merrythought's._

The four of them remained still, sizing one another up and waiting for each other to make the first move. Hermione evaluated her options, but nothing seemed to work. She did not want to risk being attacked by one creature while she was trying to hex another.

As much as she wanted to deny it, she suddenly wished that she had agreed to Tom's suggestion to clear the rooms together. It would have been a lot easier and less dangerous. Nevertheless, there was no point regretting her decision at the moment.

The stalemate ended when the door on the other side of the room was flung open, revealing Tom Riddle. Hermione would've exhaled out of relief, if she hadn't been in danger of being ripped to shreds by the Yetis and mirror ghoul.

Tom raised an eyebrow at her. "Impressive."

Her jaw nearly dropped to the floor when he sat down in the chair nearest to the door he had entered through and furthest away from where she was standing with the creatures. She nearly threw a _Riddikulus_ at him , just to make sure he was not another boggart.

The problem was the three creatures hardly glanced at Tom after he had entered the room.

Gritting her teeth together, she turned her attention back to the creatures with her mind working as quickly as it could to find a solution to her problem.

"The other rooms on this floor are cleared," Tom announced. "This is the last room."

She quickly glanced at him and looked back at the monsters in front of her. That poor excuse of a human (let alone a wizard) was just _**sitting**_ there as if nothing concerned him.

She mentally counted to ten, reminding herself that she had other, more important things to do.

"Oh, adult Yetis. And I thought the only ones we'd be seeing today were the teenage ones," he commented, further aggravating her.

"Less distraction would be much appreciated," she muttered.

"Of course. My apologies," he said, his eyes glinting with amusement as he twirled his wand.

With a snarl, the mirror ghoul suddenly stomped toward her. As if the movement was a signal, the Yetis also charged in her direction.

" _Protego_!" she cast, attempting to force them backwards before she cast a spell on one of them.

Her eyes widened when Tom stood up from his chair with his wand extended.

" _Incarcerous_ ," he cast and ropes flew toward her.

Without thinking, she cast a spell towards it. " _Incendio_!"

Fury erupted in his dark eyes as he frowned and strode toward where she was standing.

" _Expelliarmus_!" she screamed out. In her state of panic, she had forgotten that the spell would be recognized by Merrythought as a dueling spell.

Her spell was easily blocked by Tom before he turned his wand on one of the Yetis and successfully banished it.

She took it as her chance and quickly chanted, " _Impedimenta_!"

The spell successfully hit its target, causing Tom to stumble backwards. He quickly regained his stance, glaring at her before banishing yet another Yeti.

Hermione was about to cast another spell at him when something grabbed her from behind, successfully stopping her and causing her to scream for the second time that day. Unable to use her wand, she proceeded to kick the creature with all the strength she could muster. It was then that she realized that Tom wasn't trying to attack her or tie her up; he was attacking the monster behind her.

" _Relashio_!" Tom cast, knocking over whatever was holding Hermione and causing it to release her from its grip.

She fell onto the floor, yelping in pain from the scratches the creature had left on her arms and scraping her knees across the floor. She looked up just in time to see the mirror ghoul taking a swipe at Tom, who had his concentration on the creature that had been holding her seconds before—which turned out to be a yet another Yeti—and successfully slashing his arm. She screamed before she realized it.

_This isn't supposed to be real—why did it hurt us—I thought this is only a test, monitored by magic—_

Many questions flashed through Hermione's mind, but she had no answers.

Tom stared coldly at the mirror ghoul that had wounded him, unrestrained anger and power radiating throughout the room. Hermione suddenly gasped for breath, nearly suffocating in the magic that he was giving off. It was powerful, too powerful for someone his age. At that moment, she fully realized how he became Lord Voldemort—she realized how he _**could**_ become the darkest wizard in history.

With a wave of his wand he destroyed the two creatures, yet his fury did not decrease. She could clearly feel that his thirst for vengeance had not been quenched.

What frightened her the most was the fact that he was staring directly at her, his eyes narrowed and his hand gripping his wand with more strength than necessary.

"I … I …" she stuttered, not knowing what to say.

Without another word, he turned around and stalked out of the room.

On their way down, Hermione wanted to say something to Tom, even thank him perhaps, just to break the silence. However, every time she gathered enough courage, he would glance at her with another look that would be enough to freeze the fires of hell. That, of course, would cause her to swallow all thoughts of friendly conversations or words of gratitude.

As Tom had predicted, Abraxas and Joseph had cleared the first two floors despite their duel, although each of them had ended up with no less than five wounds. The Abraxas's eyes widened when he saw the gash on his Lord's arm.

"How …" he trailed off when his master's eyes landed on him.

Still remaining silent, Tom exited the room. There were no other students present yet, so Hermione assumed that they were still inside the classroom.

"Excellent work, the four of you," Merrythought praised them. She paused and looked at Tom and Hermione with concern. "Follow me, please."

She led them to the side and sighed.

"I realize that … it is hard to keep your personal issues out of the classroom, especially in a class like this," she gestured toward the classroom they had just exited. "It's just so easy to take it out on one another through a duel. However, I would like to ask you to refrain from doing so and to work things out outside of class."

"We … we weren't really dueling, Professor," Hermione quickly explained.

A sideway glance from Tom made her swallow the rest of her words.

"We just had a mild _**disagreement**_ while we were in there, Professor. We'll be careful not to let our personal differences work their way into our class work next time," Tom replied smoothly.

"Excellent." Merrythought smiled kindly at them. "Remember to hand in the fifteen inches of parchment for the next class."

"Fifteen inches of parchment?" Hermione asked.

"Oh, right. You've never been at one of these classes before," Merrythought murmured to herself. She smiled at Hermione again. "After every class such as this one, I require my students to write up fifteen inches of parchment in regards to what they've learned from it and how they could've achieved a better score, to be handed in on the next day of class."

"Right," Hermione nodded.

Tom immediately started toward the library after they bade the professor goodbye. Hermione quickly followed after him. Once they turned around the corner, she cleared her throat. Unfortunately, Tom didn't even bother to look at her.

"Tom," she finally called out.

He stopped, but he didn't turn around.

She took a deep breath and walked up to him. "I'm sorry."

"What for?" he asked coolly, his gaze as indifferent as his words.

"I shouldn't have … well …" she bit her lower lip, a furious red staining her cheeks as she spoke. Her eyes landed on his arm and she frowned. "You should go see Madam Pomfrey—"

With a wave of his wand, he healed the wound and his robes. She stared at where the injury had been seconds ago.

"If that is all, Miss Granger, I'll see you in class later," he said, an obviously faux smile on his face.

Hermione had to suppress herself from shivering. She could not help but notice how menacing his smile was.

And as he made his way towards the library and left her standing in the hallway, she had the uneasy feeling that she was, unfortunately, going to be his target.

~-0-~

Hermione felt as if she was riding on a roller coaster in the dark. The anticipation of hurtling down from the highest point was always there, but she did not know when that moment would come and she had no idea how fast she would be traveling down.

Later that day, she went to the infirmary to get something for the scratches left by the Yeti. Madam Pomfrey was greatly displeased, and Hermione distinctly heard her muttering under her breath about students who couldn't get along with one another and professors who didn't abide by the rules. The nurse had, apparently, heard the rumors about Hermione and Tom dueling with one another in the classroom (although Hermione had no idea how the story had gotten out). The second part of the Madam Pomfrey's complaint, however, was what really piqued her curiosity.

The thoroughly disgruntled Madam Pomfrey had been unwilling to speak ill of her fellow colleagues at first, but in the end, her irritation overcame her. It turned out that Merrythought was taking liberties with what could and could not be used to teach the students at Hogwarts. The wards in the classroom would only kick in when a student was in mortal peril; in other words, the students could still be severely injured in the "building."

On Wednesday, she walked into Transfiguration, wondering if Tom would do anything then. The substitute professor for that class was always quite oblivious to what anyone was doing during that period. However, other than a less than kind smile directed toward her, he didn't make any moves.

In Potions, they were still forced to work together, despite Hermione's protests. They hardly exchanged words over the boiling cauldron, and Tom made no comments in response to Slughorn's insinuations, which made her even more uneasy.

Charms class on Thursday morning passed without any unfortunate mishaps (unless she counted the incident when the fire from Augusta's mispronounced spell started burning the tables and chairs in the classroom), and lunch was just as uneventful as usual.

It was in Defense that Hermione realized that her moment of doom had finally arrived. She could tell just by the eerily pleased smile plastered on Tom's face. His Knights either sneered or guffawed once they set eyes on her. Draco, on the other hand, seemed really uncomfortable in his seat, as if someone had placed a Squirming Spell on him.

While Merrythought was lecturing them about the second vampire spell that they would be learning today, Hermione was desperately hoping that she would be paired with Augusta Rookwood instead of Tom Riddle.

Unfortunately, fate was not so kind to her.

"Hermione, can you please practice with Tom?" the angel-from-hell's voice asked.

Oh, how she hoped that the floor would just open up and swallow her as she stared into the eyes of Lord Voldemort.

~-0-~

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **A/N** : The spell is, again, created through the usage of an English-to-Latin online translator. So any mistakes are mine.
> 
> Many thanks to my betas: Lildaani, Noybate, Aling, and Kako.


	16. Chapter 16

**Chapter 16**

Hermione Granger was a Gryffindor. The House was known for bravery and boldness. Therefore, naturally, when she saw Tom smile at her in a manner that greatly reminded her of how Crookshanks looked when he had just caught a mouse …

"Professor, I—" she stumbled over her words.

"Yes?" Merrythought questioned.

"I—I—" she stuttered.

Suddenly, she was aware of the fact that she was the center of attention of the whole class. It made her cheeks burn with embarrassment and a sense of dignity perked up, tugging along with it, her Gryffindor bravado. Her mind became numb, racing to find a perfect cover up.

"I—just ... wanted to let you know that ... I'll do my best in your class."

Merrythought smiled brightly at her, oblivious to the fact that her voice was getting lower and lower with each syllable.

"Excellent, Miss Granger. I never would've thought otherwise, seeing what an intelligent young lady you are," she praised her before walking away.

Tom's smile slowly transformed into a sneer once Merrythought had her back turned towards them.

"Shall we begin?" he asked, venom interlacing with the faux politeness in his voice.

_No, not really_.

She glanced around and discovered that, unfortunately, the students that were practicing around them were mostly his Knights. Great, perfect set up just in case she needed help.

"Whenever you're ready," she nearly squeaked, the pitch of her voice at least two times higher than usual.

She swore that he was laughing at her with his eyes. His face was impassive, however, and she had to suppress a scream when he pointed his wand at her.

"Ladies first," he said quietly, his words like cold silk, slipping over her skin, causing her to shiver.

" _Ar-argenta exura_ ," she chanted, her hands uncontrollably shaking.

A stream of light as feeble as her words traveled towards Tom. She stared. Did the spell just disappear before it hit him?

"Were you even trying, Miss Granger?" he asked, his pale fingers sliding up his wand. With a swish of his wand, he cast his spell. " _Argenta exura_!"

She didn't even have time to move to the side. The spell impacted the pad protecting her chest and caused her to stumble backwards. She desperately wished that the class would end soon.

However, it was just the beginning.

"Are you alright?" Tom asked, taking a step towards her.

"Never better," she muttered. She then cast the spell again. " _Argenta exura_!"

The spell, fortunately, hit the pad in front of his chest. However, it seemed to have no effect on him whatsoever.

" _Argenta exura_!"

The spell hit its target before she realized that she had been wrong—he had been controlling his force the first time he had cast the spell.

This time, she was thrown off her feet and landed on the floor, several feet away from where she had originally been standing. She blinked, trying to refocus as he walked up to her, stopping next to her. She distinctly heard the snickers from the Slytherins surrounding them, undoubtedly laughing at her for the dilemma she was in.

"Is something wrong?" she heard Merrythought ask, her voice coming closer and closer to them.

Hermione quickly scrambled up despite still feeling nauseous, knowing that she would have to pay dearly if she let Merrythought know what Tom had done to her.

"She tripped over something, Professor," Tom replied, placing a hand on her shoulder.

She attempted to move away, but he tightened his grip. She winced from the force that he exerted there and was pretty sure that she would have bruises later on.

"Are you alright?" Merrythought asked, hurrying over to Hermione.

"I'm fine," she muttered.

"Perhaps you should let Professor Nostredame read your palm or do some tarot readings for you," Merrythought suggested. "You seem extremely ill-fated these days."

Hermione nearly snorted. She was pretty sure what the Seer-professor would tell her.

_Beware the Dark Lord_.

"I'm alright, Professor," she reassured her, shooting a glance at Tom who was looking at her, a wicked glint in his eyes.

"Take good care of her, Tom," Merrythought told him.

"Yes, Professor," he replied, bowing his head to hide the smirk appearing on his face. He turned his head slightly and looked at Hermione askew. "Are you ready to practice again?"

She gritted her teeth and nodded, determined not to let down Gryffindor House.

"Excellent," he said. He moved five steps forward before turning around to face her again. "Your turn, Miss Granger."

" _Argenta exura_!" she cast, putting all her strength behind the spell.

Tom quickly cast a Shielding Charm, a mixture of surprise and approval on his face after the spell collided with his shield.

" _Argenta exura_!"

Apparently, his approval and surprise had no impact on the force of his spell. Thankfully, she did not get thrown off her feet this time, although she did collide with Dolohov when she stumbled backwards.

"Watch it, Granger," Dolohov hissed at her.

She glared at him, remembering what had happened back in fifth year at the Department of Mysteries.

Standing up straight again, she concentrated on the spell before she cast it once more. This time, the spell was surprisingly stronger and faster than before. Tom's shield was up before her spell collided with him, of course. It irritated her thoroughly; after all, she wasn't accustomed to being second best.

" _Argenta exura_!"

She quickly swished her wand around, and she nearly didn't have enough time to finish conjuring the Shield Charm again. A sigh of relief escaped her mouth; she was grateful that at least she wasn't being thrown across the room again.

Determination overcame her fear, and she stared at him for a few seconds before casting the spell towards him again. She could have sworn that a flash of surprise appeared on his face before he moved to the side, allowing the spell to hit the wall behind him. When he faced her again, however, the satisfied smirk on his face caused her to freeze.

It confused her, and she really wanted to ask why he was so satisfied. After all, she was the one casting the spell …

"Alright, class! Please return to your seats," Merrythought called out, clapping her hands together.

Confusion clouded Hermione's mind as she made her way back to her seat. Even after Merrythought assigned them their homework and dismissed them from class, she still couldn't work it out.

She didn't understand. Why was he pleased?

~-0-~

Whatever his reason for smiling, Hermione still felt as if someone had dropped her into the Arctic Ocean that afternoon as they walked out of the Potions classroom, and Tom Marvolo Riddle nodded slightly to her, saying, "I'll see you in front of Slughorn's office tonight."

In short, she was chilled to the bones. Not even books could take her attention away from the approaching danger of spending a couple of hours with Lord Voldemort.

That night, for the first time in her life, Hermione felt that the trip from Gryffindor Tower to the Potions classroom was too short.

"Good luck," Gareth and Joseph had said to her when she walked out of the common room.

She couldn't help but question their sincerity when they started to snicker right afterwards.

Now, she stood facing the Potions classroom. Her hand remained still, refusing to turn that doorknob and open the door to her fate. She wondered if she could find Dippet and make him change her detention time. However, from the looks of it, Slughorn would probably speak against it and she would still end up in the same situation.

The door suddenly opened, and she found herself staring at Tom.

His eyes flickered only once before a polite smile found its place on his lips.

"Good evening."

"Good evening," she replied, deciding that civility would be her best bet.

She walked cautiously past him and into the classroom. She found the move a bit silly after she entered the room; he obviously wasn't going to curse her right in front of a professor.

"Hermione! You're here!" Slughorn exclaimed happily.

_What's he so cheery about?_ she thought to herself in disgust as she walked up to the front of the classroom.

"Good evening, Professor. I'm here for the detention," she replied as politely as she could.

"Of course, of course," Slughorn answered, clapping his hands together. "Tom will tell you what you need to do. Basically, I just need to rearrange the Potions inventory. Students always put ingredients back in the wrong places and, as you know, some of them can't be set back in place by magic since it will change their magical properties."

Hermione nodded.

"Good! Are there any more questions, then?"

"No, sir," she shook her head.

"Wonderful! Then," Slughorn said happily, standing up from his seat, "I'll leave the classroom to the two of you."

"Wait. You're not going to be here?" she asked, alarmed.

He gave Hermione a wink. By now, she was pretty much accustomed to the shivers that crawled up and down her spine every time he did so. "Of course not. Try not to mess up the room too much, alright, you two?"

He sauntered out of the classroom before she had time to react. She did not know which statement she should react to first. The feeling of disgust was competing furiously with the premonition of the danger lying ahead of her. On the one hand, she was repulsed by what Slughorn might be thinking. On the other hand, she was afraid of what one evening with the Dark Lord would leave her with. At the end, her survival instinct kicked in and pushed all other thoughts aside. She attempted to find a way out of her situation but she couldn't think of anything.

Slughorn disappeared around the corner down the hallway before Hermione fully accepted that she was doomed. Slowly, she glanced at Tom, half curious and half afraid of his reaction. He was sitting leisurely on the edge of the table near her, his attention on her rather than Slughorn.

Her mind momentarily went blank.

As hard as she tried, she could not deny the fact that he was bloody handsome and even more so without the pretense. Tom Marvolo Riddle was far too good-looking, and it was hindering her thinking process, which made her situation quite dangerous. She should have been worrying about her safety, not thinking lewd thoughts about Riddle.

_Ron._ _I have to think of Ron._ _He's the one waiting for me in the future._ _He's the one I'm destined to be with._ _He's_ — _No, wait._ _What am I thinking?_ _Why would I like_ **Tom Riddle** _of all people?_ _He's threatening to injure me, if not kill me. Hel-lo, Hermione Jean Granger. Remember what happened earlier today? You really—_

"We might as well get started instead of staring at each other for the whole evening. I don't fancy spending an entire year reorganizing potion ingredients," Tom's voice broke through her silent monologue as he stood up and walked past her.

Hermione allowed herself a few more minutes while her conscious tried to communicate with her subconscious. When she was positive that her mind was thinking the way it should and would not go off on its own course, she followed him into the supply cupboard.

He was standing by the cabinet, taking out bottles of ingredients. He glanced at her when she walked into the supply cupboard.

"Finally found your way into the supply cupboard?" he mocked.

"It doesn't really take someone with Merlin's ingenuity to find it, now, does it?" she replied wryly.

He chuckled in response. "I suppose it doesn't," he said softly, his eyes trained on an unlabeled bottle in his hand.

She narrowed her eyes at it, the clear liquid inside strongly reminding her of Veritaserum. She took a step backwards and faced the bottles to her right.

"So, we're supposed to reorganize these, too?" she asked. She winced when she noticed that her voice was noticeably shriller than usual again.

So much for the values that were used to place students in Houses.

"Of course," he replied, placing the bottle on the table to her left and taking a step towards her. "We're supposed to reorganize everything in here." Another step. "Unfortunately, some of the potions and ingredients do not have labels on them." He stopped in front of her.

Hermione mentally cursed at how small the room was.

In a low voice, he said, "And we have to sort them out one by one."

She attempted to move backwards, but she then realized that she was already right up against the wall. A blush crept up her cheeks when she acknowledged just how close he was to her.

They locked gazes with one another. His eyes were like two bottomless pits: dark, endless, and foreboding. So dangerous … yet, she found herself drowning in them, like a leaf being pulled away by the rushing currents of the rivers that lay between the world of living and the world of Hell.

She opened her mouth slightly, trying to gulp in much needed oxygen.

"How should we sort out the potions?" he asked softly, picking up a lock of her hair and twirling it around his finger.

His eyes never left hers, and she felt like a rabbit or just simply a prey with no name, staring into the eyes of a viper—as if she was immobilized. The loss of control made her feel uncomfortable and her heart was beating at an abnormal rate, making it even harder for her to breathe regularly.

"Miss Granger," he whispered, his voice merely a hiss in her ears. She felt a shiver run down her spine, and her throat felt abnormally dry. "Do you know what that potion is?"

Still unable to speak, she merely shook her head, causing him to laugh.

"Take a guess," he suggested, the laughter never quite vanishing from his tone and his voice so gentle that he could've been speaking to his lover.

She swallowed and grabbed a fistful of her robes, as if she was seeking for some feeble support. She shook her head again, suddenly wishing for Slughorn walk in on them, however intimate the scene might appear.

"No?" he raised an eyebrow. "I was under the impression that you were intelligent. Don't tell me that you do not have _**any**_ idea of what it might be."

She finally detached her eyes from his and glanced at the bottle innocently sitting on top of the wooden table. It was so easy. Tom had access to everything he needed to brew any Dark potions he wanted, and no one would even suspect that he was the culprit. He had successfully set up the stage, directed his own show, and charmed the audience into believing that _**he**_ was the hero of the story.

Hermione turned her attention to him again and was hardly surprised when she found him looking at her curiously and calculatingly at the same time. She was just as much an enigma to him as he was to her.

Or so she hoped.

Finally finding her voice, she said, "I never claimed to be extremely intelligent. Besides, there are at least ten different potions that are clear."

"Hm ... true. I guess the only way for us to find out what the potion is, then …" he trailed off, a wicked gleam in his eyes.

She doubted that he would accept it if she suggested that they waited for Slughorn to identify the potion. Therefore, she held her breath, waiting for him to continue and trying to slow down her heartbeat. Unfortunately, he did not seem to have the intention of telling her what he had in mind as he eyed her features.

"Is what?" she finally asked, when she was sure he was not going to say anything else before she did.

"We'll have to test it, won't we?" he asked, his voice only slightly above a whisper again.

His fingers continued to play with her hair, causing her scalp to tingle. His lips curved into an overly pleased smile, mocking and taunting her at the same time.

"On what?" she asked, her voice a pitch higher still.

"Do you have any suggestions?" he asked, lowering his eyes and preventing her from further analyzing his thoughts.

She bit her lower lip and desperately tried to find a way out of the situation she was in.

Suddenly, he leaned forward until his mouth was mere centimeters away from her ears. "You're scared, Miss Granger."

It wasn't a question.

"Pray tell, what am I afraid of?" she questioned, her voice slightly shaky, although she could not tell whether it was because of his proximity or her fear.

"Perhaps you can tell me the answer."

She kept quiet, her eyes still on his face and alert for any changes.

"How can four students who I had never seen before _**think**_ they know more about me than the students here, who have known me for the past seven years?" he murmured, almost like he was talking to himself rather than to her.

"I … have no idea what you're talking about," she replied slowly, hoping the innocence on her face looked genuine enough for him to believe her. "At my old school, they always taught us to distrust what we see at the surface of things."

"How _**fascinating**_ ," he said. "Are you going to start telling me about the curriculum at Durmstrang, Miss Granger?"

She opened her mouth but stopped midway, searching her mind for the right thing to say. One wrong word could hurt Draco.

Before she could answer him, he laughed, causing the hair on her arm to stand up. A fear rose from the bottom of her heart and attacked all her senses when he coldly stared into her eyes. She could almost see the red glint behind his dark eyes, threatening to break into her mind and through her soul.

"How … did you know … we came from Durmstrang?" she managed to say.

She felt her head pounding in sync with her heart, the blood flushing through every cell of her body and inflaming her, pushing her towards the brink of panicking. However, she knew that at that moment, more than ever, she couldn't panic.

Without warning, he placed his hand on the back of her head and pulled her towards him, until her face was two inches away from his. It seemed a bit pointless to Hermione—he did not need to intimidate her with such close proximity. He was threatening enough without it.

"This is the last time I will warn you, Miss Granger," he said quietly, his voice as cold as his eyes. "I know that you've met with Mr. Malloy already."

"Well, that's rather normal, isn't it?" she questioned timidly. "We … we knew each other from Durmstrang, so meeting with him—"

"I've never believed for one minute that you're from Durmstrang. It's obvious that was just a cover story for whatever you're hiding," he cut in.

"You can't prove that I'm lying," she quickly retorted, placing her hands on his chest to prevent him from getting any closer to her.

A ghost of a smile touched his lips before she realized how guilty that sounded.

"The truth of the matter is that you won't find any evidence against us _**because**_ ," she tilted her head a bit higher, "we're _**not**_ lying."

"Is that so?" he asked, the pressure of his hand behind her head increasing and forcing her face even closer to his.

Without warning, she felt something against her throat. Her eyes widened with fear when she realized that it was his wand.

"What … what are you doing?" she asked, her throat dry.

"I'm simply asking you to help me in satisfying my curiosity, Miss Granger. I prefer knowing _**everything**_ about everyone," he replied conversationally, drawing circles under her chin with his wand.

"You … you can't threaten me like this," she stuttered, cautious about moving abruptly in case he might find some incentive to hex her. "If the professors find out about this—"

"They would never believe you," he interrupted her. "The only professor who would believe you is currently in the middle of Germany with no way of knowing anything that is happening inside the walls of this school. Even if he _**were**_ here, do you actually believe that I would get in trouble?" The hand behind her head found a lock of her hair and started to play with it. "How do you think I managed to stay here for so long when he was continuously searching for a way to get me to leave?"

Hermione looked at him, surprised. She knew that Dumbledore was not particularly fond of Tom, but she never knew that he had attempted to get him thrown out of Hogwarts before.

Tom's lips curved in a lazy smile. It was not a pleasant smile, yet it sent shivers that were not simply from fear down her spine. That was, until she heard what he said next.

"And they will never find out about it."

She almost thought her heart stopped beating as she was once again reminded of who he was. Images of what he could and might do to her to stop her from telling the professors ran through her head, and she nervously ran her tongue over her lips to moisten them.

She glanced back at him and found his eyes focused on her lips. The way his eyes ran over them pushed her towards the conclusion that this was no longer the stage between interrogator and prisoner. There seemed to be _**something else**_ _ **there**_.

Something that was sinfully wrong.

The thought triggered the alarm signal in her mind. She mustered all the strength she had and tried to push him away, but to no avail. Amusement cast an odd glimmer in his eyes, stirring up unknown feelings and emotions in her mind, body, and heart, and thoroughly frightening her.

"You can't run away," he whispered, untangling his fingers from her hair and running one single finger down her cheek.

The finality in his words pushed her fear up a notch higher, as if _**he**_ was the one who was in control of where her destiny was heading.

"Hermione."

The syllables of her name struck her heart, drumming against it like the hammers inside of a piano, creating a lullaby in her mind that lured and repulsed her at the same time.

She shook her head, trying to get rid of emotions she didn't understand and clear her mind.

She _**had**_ to think of Ron.

Once again, she gathered all the strength she had and pushed against him. This time, however, she threw her whole weight onto him. Taken by surprise, Tom took one step backwards; it was, nevertheless, enough for her to slip past him.

She sprinted towards the door of the classroom. Before she had the chance to touch the doorknob, he had already caught up to her. He slammed his palm against the door, preventing her from opening it. She turned around, just in time to see a flash of light fly past her, and she realized with a sinking heart that he had cast an unknown spell on the door to block the exit.

He placed his other hand on the door, caging her in. As much as she tried to tell herself not to panic, it was not working.

She cleared her throat softly. In a shaky voice, she said, "Look, Tom. We _**are**_ from Durmstrang. I … I understand that you find us strange in many ways, but that's probably because our schools have different cultures." She bit her lower lip and attempted to avoid looking into his eyes. Other than the fact that she didn't know if he was a Legilimens or not, it still made her wary, staring straight into his mysterious eyes. "I … I was looking for Ma—Draco because … I wanted to make sure … make sure that he's comfortable here, that is. I was worried that he might not be adjusting well to being here. Besides, even if that's not the truth, and I assure you that it is, why would it concern you?"

He did not answer her. In fact, minutes slipped by and he merely continued staring at her. They remained standing there for so long, gazing at one another that she almost thought that he might …

Her mind went blank at the absurd thought of him kissing her before she proceeded to mentally perform nasty curses on her mind.

_Ron, I have to think about Ron_ , she recited to herself as if it was a mantra.

She tried to think of what happened in the most recent Defense class, when he was throwing her around in class. It should repulse her enough to stop thinking of images that were just plain wrong.

All thoughts once again flew out of her mind when his eyes lingered on her lips for longer than necessary, and she was certain that that and the speeding up of her heartbeat had nothing to do with fear this time.

As wrong as the realization was, she couldn't find the strength or will to run away from him. Stopping him from doing whatever he intended to do was no longer an option. It was as if her feet were rooted to the spot. She remained where she was with her back against the door and with bated breath as he studied her face.

Abruptly, he took a step back and flicked his wand at the door, reversing whatever spell it was he had placed on the door.

She stared at him, half of her surprise from the fact that he did not Obliviate her. The other half …

"We shall finish our discussion some other time." He paused, his eyes never leaving hers. "You should know better than to mention this to anyone," he warned quietly before turning around and striding into the supply cupboard.

She continued staring at him from the door.

_Thank Merlin he didn't kiss me_ , she thought as she attempted to ignore the sense of loss at in the pit of her stomach.

What was she thinking? It … it certainly was not a sense of loss. It was probably because of anxiety. After all, he had just spend a good amount of time intimidating her.

Believing anxiety to the case, with irritation building inside of her at an alarming rate, she pushed herself away from the wall and stalked into the supply cupboard.

Strangely, for the rest of the night, not only did she find it a lot harder to stare at his eyes, but also his lips.

~-0-~

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> b>A/N: Many thanks to Aling, matterhorn, and my sister for beta-ing for me!


	17. Chapter 17

**Chapter 17**

Ignoring Tom was surprisingly easy for Hermione Granger. It did not take too long for her to discover, however, that it was probably because he was also trying to avoid her. Her first detention had been the only detention she had completed up to date. He constantly seemed to be "too busy to oversee her detention." In fact, other than the classes, she hardly saw or spoke to him. Even while they worked together in classes, he would keep the conversation level to a minimum.

Of course, much to Hermione's annoyance, he was still highly critical of her spell-casting abilities. He never failed to offer his opinion when she did something during Defense class. Even though she was quite aggravated by what he was doing, she still had to admit that her skills significantly improved under his scrutiny. Additionally, she was quite thankful that he was no longer hexing her for fun.

However, his avoidance of her soon presented a problem: the Slughorn party was next Friday, and she still did not know if Tom had spoken to Slughorn or not.

That Wednesday, she was determined to ask him when she would serve her next detention. However, he swept out of the Potions classroom before she had the chance to open her mouth, leaving her standing alone and staring after him.

Slughorn patted her shoulder gently in comfort. "You must excuse him, dear. Being an excellent student yourself, you must understand the pressure that comes with the burden of schoolwork."

"Schoolwork?" she asked.

"Tom didn't tell you? He has a Divination project due after the vacation, so most likely, he will be preoccupied until then."

_Not much of a surprise_ , Hermione thought, mentally snorting to his words.

Apparently, Lord Voldemort never grew out of his obsession with superstitions, did he? Then again, he never got rid of his infatuation with immortality, either, but honestly, how difficult was it to finish a _**Divination**_ project?

Suddenly, Slughorn looped his arm around her shoulder as she resisted rolling her eyes and asked her in a low voice, "My dear, did you get into an argument with Tom?"

"Um …" Hermione started, not really knowing how to answer his question.

Slughorn, however, interpreted it the way he wanted to and sighed.

"I understand how hard it is, but you have to remember, Hermione, the two of you have to learn how to work things out together! You can't have squabbles like this for the rest of your life!" he exclaimed. "I know that both of you are quite stubborn, but in a relationship, you have to compromise sometimes. Being in a relationship _**means**_ that you have to compromise."

"Professor …" Hermione said weakly, a frown settling on her forehead.

"That Tom! I will have to remind him about being a gentleman! Even though the two of you are an item, you're still the lady!" Slughorn continued.

She stared at him, horrified.

"No, no, no!" she protested. "Professor, it's alright! I'll sort it out with him. It's no big deal! You don't have to worry about it!"

"No, it's best that I talk to him about it. Don't worry, Hermione. Everything will be fine," Slughorn insisted as he pushed her out of the classroom.

"Pr-Professor!"

"I'll see you tomorrow, then," he smiled before shutting the door in her face.

~-0-~

The next morning, Hermione seriously considered taking a day off from her classes. She tried talking to Slughorn to stop him from "chatting" with Tom. However, he merely smiled mysteriously at her. There were no doubts in her mind that Slughorn had decided to talk to Tom regardless of what she told him.

Therefore, this particular morning, the Gryffindor Tower just seemed so much safer than other places in the castle. Nevertheless, after minutes of internal struggling and skipping breakfast altogether, she found herself walking towards the Charms class.

As Hermione walked to the classroom, she noticed a couple of Slytherin young men huddling together at the corner with most of the young ladies who frequently jeered at her. Usually, the girls would be inside the classroom, preparing a "welcoming speech" for her. This sudden change of routine somehow made Hermione uncomfortable. On top of that, Joseph and Gareth were nowhere in sight. Her stomach churned when she noticed the worried look on Draco's face. Sadly, there was nothing either one of them could do.

_Way to go, Hermione Jean Granger. It seems like you've just pissed off Lord Voldemort_ , she thought sarcastically.

Bracing herself for the worst and reminding herself that she had Gryffindor values to uphold, she walked into the empty classroom and sat down in her seat cautiously. Although she knew it was quite useless, she piled her textbooks on the table, attempting to form some sort of barricade behind which she could hide. No sooner had she finished building her miniature wall did a shadow loom directly over her. Two palms were placed soundlessly but firmly on either side of her textbook blockade.

She gulped, mentally telling herself or perhaps praying that everything would be alright. She gazed slowly and fearfully at the young man who was looking at her, cold fury etched on every feature of his face. No matter how much she prepared herself for it, it did not work.

" _ **What**_ , did you tell Slughorn?" Tom's voice was only slightly higher than a whisper, yet it frightened her even more than screaming or yelling.

"I … I …" she stuttered, her eyes flickering between him and the door.

She wondered if she could manage to run out of the classroom. Remembering the events from a few nights ago, it was obvious that that was not a possibility since he apparently ran faster than she did.

Damn him for having longer legs.

A humorless smile appeared on his face. "Did you actually find it funny, _**hilarious**_ for Slughorn to instruct me on how to treat girls?"

"I … I didn't mean … to do that …" she squeaked.

"Haven't you figured out what sort of person he is by now? Did you need to be reminded how meddlesome he could be? Or did you find the rumors particularly entertaining?"

"I didn't … do it on purpose," she replied quickly, slowly moving her chair away from him.

However, that feat in itself was difficult; she could hardly control her body from shaking in fear. There was no guarantee in regards to what he might do to her. She highly doubted that most of the people standing outside would come to her rescue if she screamed.

He narrowed his eyes and leaned towards her. "I'm starting to believe that you actually _**enjoy**_ these rumors."

Hermione stilled for a moment until what he said fully sank into her mind.

"Wh-what?" she sputtered, completely thrown off by his words. "This is ridiculous—you think that I fancy you? What—I—"

Despite it being the most inappropriate moment in the world, she could feel her heartbeat steadily increasing and her cheeks slightly warming due to his implications.

Unfortunately, she did not have cauldrons to blame anymore.

How could she have these reactions towards _**Tom Riddle**_? She would have to find a Muggle psychologist when she got back to the future. There was obviously something very, very wrong with her if she was blushing when the darkest wizard in history was near her.

He grabbed her chin, forcing her to look straight into his eyes.

"Are these expressions simply acts to catch my attention?" he asked in a low voice which stopped what she was thinking and sent shivers down her spine.

As much as her conscious attempted to kick in, her mind dutifully went blank.

_Granger, you have Ron already. Get a hold of yourself._

Nevertheless, it was not working. Her concentration was certainly not on trying to pry her face away from his fingers. It was focused on more important things—such as noticing how he had flawless skin, which could not be said for every young man his age. The paleness of his skin would have looked sickly on someone else, but for some reason, it worked with his features. His eyebrows were slightly furrowed together as if he were deep in thought. As usual, his eyes were unreadable and even more so due to the shadow of his hair cast upon his face. She suddenly had the urge to run her hands through his hair to see if it were as soft as it looked.

_Wavy, but not as messy as Harry's …_

Harry's face flashed through her mind, and she suddenly felt as if someone poured a bucket of ice-cold water on her. Memories of the many times Harry had almost got killed by the future Voldemort flooded her mind. The image of Ginny lying on the infirmary bed acted like a knife, slashing through her sinful thoughts. The _**idea**_ of betraying Harry wrapped around her neck like a noose, nearly suffocating her.

She turned her head sharply away from him. Her heart beat furiously, pounding against her chest as if it were trying to punish itself for what she had nearly fallen prey to.

"Whatever your purposes are, Miss Granger, I do not wish for something like this to happen again. Do you understand?" he asked quietly.

Hermione did not answer him, her eyes focused on the wall to her right instead of on him. Fear flooded her heart, although she was certain that Tom Marvolo Riddle was not the cause of it. Her heart somehow acknowledged something before she was prepared for it. Even though her clever mind knew the answer, she refused to believe it.

She wanted—she _**needed**_ to return to the future.

"Granger," he hissed, bringing her out of her thoughts.

The dangerous undertone of his voice caused her to look at him. Apparently, the future Dark Lord was not very accustomed to being ignored. She was about to run for cover when the door opened and Professor Fireswish walked into the classroom. She was about to mentally thank him until he asked them to follow him into the hallways.

Once outside, the professor immediately closed the door and turned around to look at them. Hermione allowed herself to use that time to calm herself down and mentally chat with herself.

_There are absolutely no reasons_ _to fall for_ **him** _out of all people. Honestly …_ _Of course, he's extremely charming and intelligent,_ _and those intellectual debates with him are quite entertaining and exciting … not to mention how he doesn't feel that it's a waste of time to read books … but_ _everyone knows that his humbleness is just an act. And those aren't very good reasons for_ **me** _out of all people to be attracted to him … Of course! I must be hallucinating …_ **imagining** _these feelings …_

She was brought out of her thoughts by Fireswish's voice.

"I've heard about what happened, Tom, Hermione," he said in a low voice. "Young love is so fragile, so delicate, and sweet. There are so many obstacles when you're walking down the road of love, but I'm sure you're going to work it out. Both of you are so intelligent! Just remember the emotions that you've shared with one another, the _**passion**_."

Hermione blinked.

_Honestly, what_ **are** _these professors thinking?_

The professors in the future would hardly care about what happened between students who were couples, yet the professors in the forties seemed a bit overenthusiastic about the supposed "passion" between Tom and her.

"It's probably harder to listen to what Professor Slughorn tells you, Tom, since he's almost like a father to you," Fireswish continued to say. "Therefore, he wished for me to chat with you a bit about your argument with Hermione."

He shot her a fatherly smile before looking back at the Slytherin.

"It might be hard to listen to one another when you're arguing, but perhaps the two of you should've stopped when the argument got out of hand and waited for the anger to go away before discussing it. Often, it's hard to bring across a point when you're immersed in anger."

She was about to say something until she noticed the warning glares Tom was sending towards her.

"We're slowly sorting it out, Professor," Tom said, his eyes never leaving hers.

"Excellent!" Fireswish exclaimed. He then observed the two of them for a few seconds before saying, "Perhaps the two of you should talk about it during this period? I'm sure you can catch up with the work later on. I wouldn't want you to be distracted from class due to personal reasons. I would be more than happy to excuse you for the day."

"If that will be alright with you, Professor," Tom replied, his eyes cast downwards once again.

Hermione immediately shook her head. "No, Professor. I'm … I'm afraid … that I … I might not catch up in class."

"Nonsense." Fireswish waved her protest away. "You're an excellent student, Hermione. And I'm sure Tom will be more than happy to assist you should any problem arise." He then turned his head back towards Tom who had a humble expression on his face once more. "Isn't that so, Tom?"

"Of course," Tom replied, a smile playing at the corner of his lips.

"There's a classroom down the hallway. Perhaps you could talk with Hermione in there?"

"Thank you," Tom answered, gratitude appearing on his face and making Hermione marvel at his excellent acting skills again.

Fireswish smiled brightly at them and walked into the Charms classroom. Hermione was about to follow him when Tom grabbed her arm. She grimaced and nearly yelped from the force he was exerting on it. Without letting go, he dragged her down the hallway into the classroom the Charms professor had pointed out for them.

Hermione stared at the walls and wondered if anyone would hear her should he cast the Cruciatus on her. Just as that thought went through her mind, Tom flicked his wand towards the walls, doors, and windows, wordlessly casting a spell. He then swirled around and slowly walked towards her.

He stopped approximately six inches away and stared at her quietly as if he were trying to memorize every detail. She glanced nervously to both sides, although she knew that it would be impossible for her escape. He had not bothered to light the candles in the room, so she could only vaguely tell what he was doing at the moment. His eyes, however, were oddly bright.

"What are your intentions?"

Again, Hermione wondered if he were talking to himself or asking her. Nevertheless, she chose to remain silent until she could get a grasp of what he had planned for her.

He circled around her until he was standing behind her. She made a move to turn around, but he immediately placed his hand on her shoulder, forbidding her to move.

"I'll ask you for the last time, _**Hermione**_ , what are your intentions?" he demanded, venom dripping from his voice when he said her name and causing her heart to run cold.

She cautiously took a deep breath before she answered, "I have no idea what you're talking about—"

He turned her around until she was facing him. "Those suspicious glances, pretenses of kindness … Do you take me for a fool?"

"I … Why would I think like that? I ..." Hermione asked. He suddenly grabbed her chin, stopping her questions.

Her eyes hardened, slightly angered by his apparent constant need in frightening and controlling her.

" _ **In addition**_ to how frightened Miss Weatherby is of me," he hissed, a look of cunning flashing through his eyes so quickly that it escaped Hermione's attention.

Mentioning Ginny fueled the tiny flame of fury that had begun to grow in her heart. His words seemed like a challenge. It was almost as if he were daring her to fight back.

"You're thinking too much," she replied coldly, resisting the urge to pull out her wand and start throwing random hexes at him. "She was merely frightened by the _**overenthusiastic**_ attention you were giving her."

He chuckled in such a relaxed way that Hermione's mind started racing: had she unintentionally given something away?

Suddenly, he moved closer to her until his lips were nearly touching her ear.

"As the Head Boy of Hogwarts, I was simply trying to make sure that she felt comfortable here," he said in a low voice, his breath brushing against her neck.

It was too intimate, so much that Hermione wanted to run out of the classroom and hide in her dorm. However, she doubted that Tom would allow her to do that.

"I'm sure," she answered shakily, trying to ignore the tingling feelings that were running up and down her spine.

"Do I frighten you, Hermione?" he asked, his hand leaving her chin and coming to a rest on her shoulder while he moved slightly backwards so he was looking at her face again.

She remained silent, not fully sure of how she should answer the question. Minutes slipped by, and neither of them opened their mouths.

"Whatever should I do with you, Hermione?" he whispered as his finger slid down her cheek.

Her mind chose that moment to recall the gruesome details members of the Order had told her about the people who had fallen into the hands of Death Eaters and Lord Voldemort himself. As if that in itself were not terrifying enough somehow, she started imagining herself in the place of the victims.

Her brain's creativity stopped when his finger ran across her jaw line. It was now focused on how her skin tingled where he touched her. She involuntarily shivered, causing him to laugh gently. Definitely the wrong reactions at the wrong time. However, she could hardly help it when she began feeling the same anticipation she had felt that night when she was cornered by him in the Potions classroom.

At that moment, the classroom door flew open. Alphard stood at the doorway, staring at the two of them. Hermione immediately scrambled away from Tom as a tinge of red appeared on her cheeks.

"May I speak with you for a moment, Hermione?" Alphard asked after he gave Tom a nod as a greeting.

Hermione's eyes momentarily drifted over to Tom before she nodded swiftly.

Hopefully, she could clear her head a bit by talking with Alphard.

~-0-~

As the seconds passed, Hermione could feel her discomfort building. The way that Alphard was studying her was not helping at all. They were standing in the middle of another classroom, and she wished that he would speak already.

"What … were you going to talk to me about?" she asked, carefully monitoring the changes of his expression.

She was still quite embarrassed by the fact that Alphard had walked in on her and Tom. It could easily appear as if they were kissing, although nothing had really happened. The thoughts that were running through her mind, however, were hardly any less intimate.

Alphard stayed silent for a few more minutes before he finally replied, "I was worried about you when you didn't come back into the Charms classroom, but now … I thought you said that you weren't his girlfriend."

"I'm not," she immediately answered.

"Didn't seem so back there," he remarked, nodding his head in the direction of the other classroom. "In fact, it almost seems as if the two of you are in a very close relationship."

"Alphard … you're thinking too much," Hermione said, averting her eyes from him. Her face slowly turned to a shade that was quite similar to Ginny's hair color.

"Really?" he asked, raising an eyebrow and suspicion dripping from his question.

"Well … you saw what happened yesterday in Defense class, didn't you?"

"Yes … but I'm having doubts now … Forgive me for saying this, Hermione, but perhaps you're not thinking at all. He's … well, I thought you knew what kind of a person Tom Riddle is …"

"I know what kind of a person he is," Hermione said softly, shame adding to her discomfort.

She bit her lower lip, knowing that she should stay as far away from Tom as she could, but it just didn't seem possible with the situation she was in.

"It doesn't seem so from the way you're interacting with him."

"I didn't try to catch his attention or spend time with him," she protested. "It just … happened. I never asked to have detention as his assistant, but Slughorn …"

"I _**know**_ , Hermione," Alphard cut in, "but if I'm not mistaken, I'd say that you fancy Riddle, though you might not know it. Or let's put it this way—again, excuse me if you feel offended by my words—I really think that you've already noticed that you're attracted to Riddle, but you just don't want to admit it."

~-0-~

Hermione came to a stop at the wall beside the staircase, panting from her anger and from stomping across half of Hogwarts. She glared at a set of armor directly across from her, pretending that it was Alphard or Tom Marvolo Riddle. The suit of armor promptly turned its head to the side, trying to pretend that it had not seen her.

She turned her head and her eyes landed on the portrait of the Fat Lady. She probably should not go back to the Gryffindor common room yet; she was quite sure that Gareth and Joseph would have some "intelligent" remarks to make about her "escapade" with Tom.

She covered her face with her hands, letting her back fall against the wall behind her.

It was _**impossible**_. She could not have fallen in love with Lord Voldemort. He was just tossing her around the room a few days ago, and she was pretty sure she was not a masochist. How could she fall in love with someone who would become the epitome of evil? How could she fall in love with someone who wanted to kill Harry? How could she fall in love with someone who she _**knew**_ was eventually going to be vanquished by one of her best friends?

_Ron. What about Ron?_

A frown settled on her face at the fact that her boyfriend was not the first person she thought about. Ron was supposed to be important to her. He should have been the first person who came to her mind. What was wrong with her?

She groaned and closed her eyes, wishing that Dumbledore would come back soon. She was confused. She needed guidance. She _**wanted**_ guidance. She felt as if she were thrown into a cave with an unknown predator running after her, and she had no idea where she should run. It frightened her.

When she opened her eyes again, she found Draco standing in front of her, looking carefully at her. She had been so absorbed in her thoughts that she had not heard his approach.

"Are you alright?" he asked carefully.

Instead of answering, she sighed and closed her eyes. He sat down on the stairs next to her. Silence circled around them, yet for the first time, it was not uncomfortable. She opened her eyes again and found that Draco was busy studying his nails, although Hermione suspected that he was waiting for her to speak first.

"I'm alright," she finally answered softly.

He heaved a sigh—was it out of relief? _—_ and asked, "Did he hurt you?"

She slowly shook her head. Draco raised an eyebrow at her, perhaps befuddled by the frown that had not quite left her face yet. When she did not satisfy his curiosity, he sighed again and leaned backwards, attempting to make himself comfortable on the stairs.

"What happened between the two of you?" he asked.

She nibbled her lower lip, not really quite sure where she should begin.

"Well ... you do know about what happened between him and Slughorn, right?"

A smirk graced his features. "Other than being blind and deaf, I don't think there's any other way I could possibly miss it."

"The problem is," Hermione said, the frown on her forehead deepening, "he thought that I did it on purpose."

Draco snorted, which earned a dirty look from Hermione. He coughed lightly, covering his mouth with his hand to hide the remainder of the smile on his face.

"Well, I could hardly blame him. He doesn't know about the relationship between you and Weasel King," he drawled after he removed his hand and smile, earning another annoyed look. In response, he smirked again.

Silence fell over them again as she contemplated if she should tell Draco about what Alphard had said. Before she could come to a conclusion, however, he spoke again.

"You should try to avoid attracting his attention. Whatever he says or does, just try to go along with it. He'd lose interest in you after a while. If you can, try and pretend to be one of those giggling girls around him," he suggested.

"The pretense won't even last a day," she said, rolling her eyes.

Draco sniggered. "I'd love to see that though. 'Oh, Tom! I can't stir the potion! Can you please, please, please hold my hand and teach me how to?'" he performed dramatically with a peculiarly good imitation of Hermione's voice.

She narrowed her eyes at him as he chuckled, but she could not stop the small smile from appearing on her face.

They fell quiet again, immersed in their own thoughts. A frown had found its way onto Draco's forehead, too, although Hermione had no idea what he was thinking about. She figured that he would probably have many issues of his own, being in the same House as Tom and everything.

"I'll figure something out," she sighed.

Draco nodded his head in agreement.

Hermione studied his face for a short moment before saying, "I don't know if I should really ask you these questions …"

He rolled his eyes. "Well, I don't know either, since you haven't asked them yet."

A blush appeared on her cheeks. "It's because I don't know if I'm prying into your personal affairs."

A look of understanding dawned on his face.

"I figured that you would ask me one of these days," Draco said, amused. "I was wondering when, but I doubt this," he gestured toward the environment around them, "is the best place to discuss it."

"Right," she nodded before she pushed herself away from the wall. "We might as well go back to class."

Draco stood up from his seat and patted away the dust that had attached onto his robes while he was sitting down.

"Hey!" he called out after she had taken a few steps forward.

She turned around and looked at him questioningly. An uncomfortable look appeared on his face, and he shifted his weight from one foot to the other.

"I just wanted to say … well, if we're comrades now … and since Potty and Weaselette aren't exactly here right now, you … if you need someone to talk to … you could come and look for me."

A grin blossomed on her face. "Thanks."

If possible, Draco looked even more uncomfortable.

~-0-~

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **A/N** : Thanks to matterhorn, LSMerlot, and my sister for beta-ing!


	18. Chapter 18

**Chapter 18**

Hermione's resolution to stay away from Tom was soon shattered when she was reminded of the fact that she had a Slug Club party to attend soon. Slughorn made it clear that he was expecting her to attend it. Whom he expected her to go with was another question.

Tom, on the other hand, basically ignored Hermione. In fact, he even stopped criticizing her spell-casting skills. A part of her was quite relieved that she no longer had to put up with his interrogations. Another part of her, nevertheless, was rather irritated. The reason for the frustration, however, was something she would rather not mull over.

The fact that people were getting ready to go home for Christmas only added to her anxiety. Slughorn had probably scheduled the party some time before the holiday in order to incorporate as many of his star students as possible.

Of course, she was also quite worried about Draco. Although Hermione was envious of those who got to spend the holidays with their families, she hardly went home for Christmas after her first year at Hogwarts anyway. In contrast, Draco almost always went home. Thus, she tried to chat with him whenever possible in an attempt to cheer him up.

Harry, on the other hand, had not written to her since his last letter, causing her to become slightly annoyed with her best friend. The only comfort she got, the only thing that prevented her from Flooing directly to St. Mungo's was the belief that Dippet would have told her if anything had happened to Ginny.

On a good note, the girls (except for Augusta, of course) were slowly starting to treat her more amiably, which surprised her. In fact, two Ravenclaw girls had actually helped her the other day when her bag ripped apart and dropped all of her things on the floor. She wondered if it were because Tom had been particularly indifferent towards her or because she had not reacted to any of their taunts.

She finally decided that it more or less had to do with the fact that the students in the forties were much more appreciative of the snow and holidays than students back in the future. The female population in the school was especially giddy about "how romantic the snow was" and the upcoming Hogsmeade trip. The good spirit seemed to have missed Hermione, however, because by the Tuesday before Slughorn's party, she found herself becoming more snappish than usual.

The black cloud over her head probably served as a caution signal for Gareth and Joseph because they finally stopped teasing her about Tom. Nevertheless, they still contented themselves by whispering behind her back. That, unfortunately, also meant that Hermione always ended up being the last person to hear about rumors that were being spread around the school. In an attempt to console herself, she tried to think along the lines of: as long as the rumors did not involve her, it didn't matter, and she should just ignore it.

The next day, she found her situation even more puzzling. For once, the Slytherin girls had not even bothered to glare at her throughout the day, even in classes where Tom was sitting right next to her. As strange as the lioness found this, she did not comment on it. She worked with him with as much politeness as she could muster, though she was constantly reminded of how he was avoiding her like the plague.

And boy, did she want to stab him with her silver knife when she remembered that.

It was in the ladies' room after Potions that some of her questions were somewhat answered. She was in one of the stalls when a group of girls walked in.

"—bound to have ended one of these days. We were just being silly," one of the girls chattered.

"And there we were, believing that Tom would actually like that _**hag**_ ," a second girl giggled.

"Well, everyone _**thought**_ it was true. He was too close to Granger for us to believe otherwise," the first girl said.

Hermione raised her eyebrows. Who were they calling a hag?

"But how did you know that the whole rumor was false?" another girl asked, accompanied by the sound of a faucet being turned on.

"Obviously, Olivia," the first girl drawled as the faucet was turned off. "Did you know that Iris returned from St. Mungo's last week?"

"She did? But she's not in class," Olivia replied.

"Well, that's the point. That's how we know that there's nothing between Tom and Granger," the first girl laughed as she walked into the stall right next to Hermione's. "You _**did**_ notice that Tom has been ignoring Granger since last Friday, didn't you?"

"Of course! Although I must admit that I was a bit surprised. I thought he just got sick of her," a fourth girl remarked. "So you're saying that Tom's ignoring Granger because of Iris, Mildred?"

A look of realization dawned on Hermione's face; so the first girl was Parkinson's Ravenclaw cousin.

"Mm-hm," Mildred answered. "And Iris told me yesterday that Tom _**personally**_ asked Dippet to allow her to rest for a couple of more days. You know how Dippet _**always**_ listens to Tom."

"Ohhh," the rest of the girls chorused in envy.

Hermione narrowed her eyes. Well, of course. The young man who was destined to become the darkest wizard in history had the dimwitted Headmaster wrapped around his fingers.

And a stupid darkest wizard in history at that. Why anyone would fancy someone as shallow and brainless as Iris escaped Hermione's perception, but she had at least thought that the almighty Lord Voldemort would be a little more intelligent than that.

"I would do _**anything**_ to be in Iris's shoes right now," the second girl gushed.

"Who wouldn't, Betty?" Olivia sighed. "He's usually so polite to everyone, but for him to personally ask for a favor from Dippet?" Another round of sighs erupted from the girls.

For some reason, Hermione felt like wringing a certain Slytherin young man's neck at the moment.

_Well … well, that's certainly wonderful. That means that I won't have to put up with him and he won't be bothering me any longer. He_ _will_ _be preoccupied and trying to placate that … that …_ **cow** , she thought furiously to herself.

"And do you want to know a secret?" Mildred asked in a mysterious kind of way.

_Of course I do. Bring it on. Let's hear some juicy gossip about the famous Heir of Slytherin and his teenage years. Perhaps I'll get to laugh about it with Harry and Ginny when they come back,_ Hermione thought, rolling her hands up into fists.

"Iris told me that on the first day after she came back from St. Mungo's, Tom spent the _**whole entire day**_ tutoring her on the things she had missed while she was gone," Mildred finished dramatically.

Another round of envious sighs were heard, but Hermione could hardly care about their reactions.

_Well, yes. Many things can happen. Such as snogging, hugging, and more snogging_. _And Alphard actually thought that Riddle had no feelings towards that cow. That annoying, maniacal, sadistic, "I-need-better-hobbies-than-to-chase-after-and-kill-orphaned-kids" sociopath just spent an entire night in the stupid cow's room! I really should go taunt Alphard about his pathetic alertness about what is happening around—_

"It's only tutoring though. Is that really all that happened?" the fourth girl asked suspiciously, breaking off Hermione's train of thoughts.

Her attention was immediately caught by the conversation again while the rest of the girls giggled.

"Come _**on**_ , Wilma. Do we really have to spell it out for you?" Mildred sniggered suggestively, causing the rest of the girls to break out into laughter again.

_Well, wonderful. That means that there's no need for me to actually worry about anything any longer. It's not like I really care about it anyway. Besides, it stops those stupid rumors from continuing. Great_ , she thought, gritting her teeth.

With that, Hermione pushed open the door of the stall and walked out, giving each and every girl in there a cold, hard look. The girls quieted down immediately to the point that one could almost hear a pin drop, until suddenly, Mildred snorted.

"Well, well, well. If it isn't the _**famous**_ Hermione Granger, our Head Boy's _**girlfriend**_ ," she sneered.

One of the girls giggled, perhaps feeling more at ease now that one of them had spoken.

Slowly, Hermione's eyesight slid over to the Ravenclaw, and her lips curved into a mocking smile.

"Is that jealousy I hear, Avery? Because that would be a bit too ridiculous. We all know that you fancy Riddle, but to the extent that you're even wishing to be his _**rumored**_ girlfriend … now _that's_ a bit pushing it," Hermione replied, her voice soft. Disregarding Mildred's angered face, she continued, "I would've suggested for you to go to a psychologist if you were Muggle-born or half-blood, but seeing that you're one of those hypocritical pure-bloods …" Hermione smirked and crossed her arms over her chest. "If you want to be jealous, please do bother to do proper research and get your facts straight. I have a boyfriend already, and his name is _**not**_ Tom Riddle."

Without waiting for a reply from Mildred, she walked out of the toilet and headed towards the Great Hall, her anger still not quite abated.

As she approached her destination, she saw Tom and his Knights walking towards the same place from the opposite direction. The aggravation inside her increased tenfold as she continued looking at the bane of her existence.

"No, it's not," she heard him answer a question to his Knights.

"But Tom _—_ "

"Do I need to answer the same question twice?" Tom asked, very much annoyed.

With her unusually "good" luck, of course, she had to reach the doorway at the same time they did. Tom stopped, which also brought the rest of the group to a halt, and gestured for her to enter first, his face void of any emotions. Ignoring the leers from the other boys and with a stiff nod of thanks, she walked through the doors with her head held high.

Some of the students stopped chattering when she entered while a group of Slytherin girls started to giggle indiscreetly. Gareth and Joseph stared at her sympathetically and motioned for her to come over and sit with them.

_That's certainly the last thing I need. Why would I need their sympathy? It's not as if I_ **care** _about Tom Marvolo Riddle anyway_.

Nevertheless, she still walked over to where the two Gryffindor young men were sitting and sat down rather harshly.

"Are you alright?" Gareth asked carefully as Galahad peeked over to see what was happening.

"Wonderful. Never better," Hermione replied a bit too cheerily and her voice shriller than usual.

"Er … well … great … um … have some corn," Joseph suggested, scooping some into her plate.

"Thanks, Joseph," she said, stabbing her fork into one of the chicken legs from the piles of food in front of her with more force than necessary.

The two Gryffindors exchanged a worried look with one another while Galahad turned around and openly stared at Tom.

At that moment, Dippet stood up from the staff table.

When the students finally fell silent, he announced, "As most of you might know, Miss Iris Parkinson was found hurt on the grounds a few weeks ago. You might be pleased to know that she has recovered fully—"

Hermione snorted, mildly alarming Gareth and Joseph.

"—and has returned to Hogwarts. She will be back in classes starting from tomorrow. Anyone who has any ideas about who might have caused the injuries to Miss Parkinson is encouraged to contact one of the professors or myself."

A wave of murmurs washed over the Great Hall as he sat back down. A couple of people actually stood up from their seats to take a better look at Hermione as if they were trying to see her reaction.

The unwelcomed attention made her feel as if she had just been Transfigured into some extraordinary creature. In retribution, she sent daggers towards Tom from the corner of her eye. Unfortunately, the purpose was defeated when she found that he was speaking casually to Cygnus Black.

Of course. _**He**_ was not the one being laughed at. Hermione turned her eyes towards her plate and stabbed her fork into the chicken again.

She was only irritated because everyone was being sympathetic towards her for something she did not care about.

It was definitely not because of the supposed relationship between Tom Marvolo Riddle and Iris Parkinson.

~-0-~

On Thursday morning, Hermione woke up particularly early and went down to the Great Hall for an early breakfast, hoping that she could miss most of the crowd. She still had no idea what they were going to do tomorrow, and the last thing she wanted to happen was to go to Slughorn's party with Tom Marvolo Riddle. Therefore, she wanted to ask him if he had managed to convince the Potions professor.

She released a breath of relief when she noticed a particular dark-haired young man _—_ good thing he was an early bird, too. She did not fancy asking him in front of other people because being Hogwarts students, they would naturally distort everything that occurred in front of their eyes. At the same moment, he looked up and locked eyes with her. Quickly, she walked over to the Slytherin table, keeping her expression as neutral as possible, and pretended to look at the wall decorations, not noticing the fact that he had never taken his eyes off her.

When she reached where he was sitting, she greeted him, "Good morning."

He raised an eyebrow. "Good morning."

Hugging her books a bit closer, she opened her mouth. "I just wanted to know, what are we supposed to do tomorrow?"

He studied her expression for a few seconds before he turned away and took a drink out of his goblet. "I spoke with Slughorn last night. He still wishes for you to attend the party, even if we're not going together."

"Oh … sure. Thanks," Hermione replied, fighting vehemently against the sense of loss at the pit of her stomach.

"He expects you to bring someone with you," Tom added, glancing at her from the corner of his eye. "Preferably, your boyfriend."

Hermione's eyes snapped over to him. "My boyfriend?"

"If he goes to Hogwarts," he explained.

The tip of his lips curved upwards into what appeared to be more of a sneer than a smile. She could only assume that it was because he thought that her boyfriend was a Muggle.

"Oh ... okay," she replied in a clipped tone of voice, annoyed at basically everything that had just happened.

She turned around and stalked towards the Gryffindor table. A frown appeared on her forehead as she attempted to talk herself into being cheerful.

_No, I don't need to_ **talk** _myself into being cheerful. I_ **should be** _cheerful. I don't have to go to the Slug Club party with Lord Voldemort. What's a better reason than_ **that** _to be cheerful? And honestly, who was he to judge, the hypocritical half-blood! It's none of his business what blood my boyfriend_ _is, and for his information, Ron_ _is_ _as pure as they can get!_

Yet, as the minutes slipped passed her, the ice-cold feeling of gloom continued to battle with the burning anger inside of her.

She didn't feel well. No, she definitely didn't. It was certainly not because she didn't have to go to the party with Tom. Perhaps she was just coming down with a cold …

A squeal from the Slytherin table caused her to look backwards, and she turned her head just in time to see Iris throwing her arms around Tom.

Rolling her eyes, she determinedly turned her back towards the pair.

_Well, good. A hypocritical earthworm plus a self-centered cow, best pair in the world._

She sat down at the Gryffindor table, trying her best to control her temper. For some odd reason, she had a feeling that if she drew out her wand and hexed a certain Slytherin witch, she would feel much better.

"Are you alright?" a voice to her right alerted her. She turned her head and found herself looking into the concerned eyes of Gareth and Joseph.

"Of course," she replied, glancing back at the food she had unconsciously piled up on her plate. She then stabbed her fork into the waffles and stuffed it into her mouth.

"Er … you could talk to us, you know?" Gareth said hesitantly. "We are House-mates after all."

"Oh, I'm fine," she muttered. "I'm just coming down with a headache."

And the headache chose that moment to emit another round of giggles. Great.

"Are you sure you don't need to visit Madam Pomfrey? I think she has something for headaches," Joseph suggested.

"No, I'm fine," she repeated herself, her voice a bit more strained than usual. She took a deep breath when it suddenly occurred to her. "Joseph, are you free tomorrow night?"

As far as she knew, he was not part of the Slug Club.

He raised his eyebrows. "Yes, why?"

"Can you go to Slughorn's party with me? I don't have a date, and Harry's not here … and I don't really know anyone else well enough so that they won't think that I'm trying to flirt with them," she answered uncomfortably.

"Why aren't you going with Malloy?" Gareth asked, frowning.

She ogled at him, confused. "Why would I go with him?"

Mulling it over, she decided that Draco was perhaps the best choice, seeing that she did know him and he did offer a "handshake of friendship," so to speak. However, before she could tell Joseph to forget it, Gareth spoke up again.

"He's your boyfriend, isn't he?"

Hermione stared at him, taken aback, while Joseph sniggered.

"Apparently, they must have gotten into a row. He's taking Melantha Parkinson to old Sluggie's party tomorrow night," he said through his laughter.

"He's not my boyfriend," Hermione clarified.

Joseph nodded. "Okay, if you say so." The smirk on his face was more than telling, though, but he continued to talk, stopping her from explaining. "I'll go with you to Slughorn's party, but just a warning: if Malloy asks me, I'm telling him that you forced me."

"Joseph Potter!" she growled through gritted teeth.

"Come, come, Hermione. No need to hide things from us," he waved his hand in her direction as if she were a fly.

"He's _**not**_ my boyfriend," she reiterated, her temper rising.

He shook his head and sighed exaggeratedly, obviously not believing a word she said. He piled some eggs onto his plate and scrutinized her for a few minutes. All the while, she glared at him, fuming.

"Think we can chance a trip down to Hogsmeade to get something for the party for her?" he asked, despite the dirty looks she was throwing at him.

Gareth grimaced. "And give Hogan an early Christmas present? No thanks, Joseph, but I'd rather not have him catch us sneaking out of school right before the holidays."

"Right," Joseph answered, a shiver running through him involuntarily. "Especially after the Monkey Warts we placed on his beloved plants."

His words spiked up Hermione's curiosity.

"Monkey Warts?" she asked. "Doesn't that make plants shrivel up into a sac of pus? And then squirt out the pus at whoever takes a closer look at it?"

"Spot on, my clever lady," Joseph grinned.

The image of Hogan the caretaker getting squirted with the greenish-yellow ooze caused her to laugh all too gleefully. Harry, Ginny, and she had somehow managed to earn the dislike of Hogan since the first day his eyes landed on them; therefore, he would follow them around the school in between classes and had, one day, threatened to hang them up by their noses and whip them if they caused trouble. That in itself was enough for Hermione to celebrate at his expense.

"Oh, you two really are a handful," she commented, all previous anger forgotten.

The two young men joined her and chuckled.

When she finally stopped, her eyes met with those of the Tom's across the hall. The coldness in them caught her off guard and froze her. Her heart skipped a beat, and she mentally chided herself for allowing a simple gaze to shake her. She quickly recovered and stared right back at him.

Their eyesights clashed in the middle of the Great Hall much like two spells colliding with one another in a wizard's duel. Her action caused something in Tom Marvolo Riddle's eyes to stir, and that "something" lured her in, drawing her into them. She was unable to pull away; those bottomless pits tempted her much like the way Eve's apple tempted Adam. They challenged her, threatening to drag her into the fires of Hell and never relinquish their hold until there was nothing left of her but ashes.

Yet, she still did not look away. Drawn to the dangers that were presented to her and accepting the wordless challenge, she refused to be the first one to back down.

The rest of the Great Hall slowly began to fill up as students filed in for breakfast, completely oblivious to the silent battle that was occurring right in the room.

But neither of them cared, absorbed only in their own thoughts and the competition for the upper hand.

Hermione had had enough with what was happening. And if his intentions were to make her fight back …

Then, he had succeeded, and she would be damned before she allowed him to be victorious.

~-0-~

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **A/N** : Huge thanks to my betas: matterhorn, LSMerlot, and my sister!


	19. Chapter 19

** Chapter 19 **

She thought she was ready to face the incessant giggling from Iris "cow" Parkinson. After all, she could always make herself feel better by imagining horrible things being bestowed on the annoying Slytherin. Not hard at all.

Not that the "cow" was not annoying before being sent off to St. Mungo's, but still. Being sent smug looks for more than thirty minutes was not a good time spent, especially when Hermione was trying to concentrate on besting Tom in a staring contest. That, in itself, was something else that annoyed the Gryffindor since said contest ended in a stalemate when they both realized that they had only five minutes to get to their Charms class.

Thoroughly annoyed, Hermione attempted to outrun him, which was impossible by default since he obviously ran faster than her, and they were both very nearly late for class. Taking another route was also out of the question since she did not have time to stall. By the time she reached the Charms classroom and slid into her seat, she was very tempted to hex a certain Tom Riddle.

One of these days now, ** _one_** of these days, she was going to put him in his place. If possible, perhaps she could do the wizarding world a favor and get rid of a certain idiotic, hypocritical, annoying menace ahead of time or at least do him some harm. Harry and Ginny were already at St. Mungo's, so she did not have to worry about bringing disaster upon them. Draco ... well, she would just have to make it clear somehow that he had nothing to do with what she did.

To hell with the timeline.

Charms was, needless to say, not any fun. Augusta, as usual, was trying to get everyone in the room killed with her abysmal Charms skills. Iris kept turning around to shoot Hermione victorious smirks, which added fuel to Hermione’s ever burning anger. It was apparent that the cow had heard about the rumors that were being spread around while she was at St. Mungo's and was determined to destroy any illusions Hermione might have.

Hermione wanted to scoff at what the girl was doing. Illusions? She snorted. Sure, Tom Riddle was knowledgeable, intelligent, charming, and extremely good-looking (which, in her opinion, should earn him a one-way ticket to Azkaban, regardless of what he was going to do in the future), but that certainly did not stop him from being an irritating, dominating, arrogant, ignorant, delusional prat.

So no, she merely wanted to rip Iris's hair out because ... because ... because the woman was taunting her. Yes, Iris whatever-her-middle-name-is Parkinson was taunting her. As if she, Hermione Jean Granger, cared if a cow were sitting next to ** _him_**. Perhaps she should borrow Dumbledore's Pensieve (providing that he had one by now) and show Iris a memory of how Tom Riddle would look like in the future. That would certainly make Iris remove that hand on his arm immediately.

A vicious grin graced Hermione's features as she continued to imagine how Iris would react upon seeing how Lord Voldemort would look like, and that made her feel a lot better. Oh yes. That was very entertaining thought indeed.

At lunch, Iris was especially loud and laughed, in Hermione's opinion, way too exaggeratedly. Hermione wondered why they had not instilled a rule against laughing in such a fake and obviously provoking way. Nevertheless, she felt that she deserved a nice pat on the back; after all, she did talk animatedly with Joseph and Gareth without being boisterous to advertise how cheerful she was.

Of course she was cheerful. What was there not to be cheerful about?

The icing on the cake was when she walked out of the Great Hall, still chatting with Joseph about their Charms project due after the holidays. Tom and Iris trailed beside them with a couple of other Slytherins, neither of whom Hermione could place a name on (so they either died before she was born or were never intelligent enough to earn them higher ranks in Lord Voldemort's little group).

"Oh, did Granger become an item with Potter, too?" Iris asked Tom in a loud voice. "I thought she was dating Draco, although she and Potter certainly make a _nice_ pair." It was immediately followed by her silly giggles.

"I wouldn't know," Tom answered, his dark eyes staring coldly at Joseph and Hermione.

As if she cared about his stupid mood swings. If she had no problem glaring back at him back in the Great Hall, did he really think she was going to get frightened by that look that made his Death Eaters cower at his feet? Well, that was the point: They were his Death Eaters, and she was not, nor did she plan on becoming one any time soon.

Taking a leaf out of Narcissa Malfoy's book, Hermione turned her head around and stared down her nose at the annoying witch, disregarding the other Slytherins.

Fleetingly, she became amused by the thought of those dimwits hexing her. She doubted Tom would join in since he had a "wonderful" reputation to uphold, and really, the rest of the little group was hardly a threat to her after seeing how they performed in class.

"Honestly, if chatting with someone indicates that they're an item, then maybe you, Parkinson, will be marrying Hogan next. We all saw how long he spoke to you just this morning. What did you do this time? Added some _highly illegal_ potion to someone's pumpkin juice?"

She plastered a grin on her face, relishing in the uncomfortable look dawning on the Slytherin's features. Iris's eyes were darting between Hermione and Tom. Apparently, she did not want him finding out what she had done. There were no doubts in Hermione's mind by now that Iris was definitely not one of Tom's Knights, neither did he trust her enough to tell her his little secrets nor showed her what was beneath that facade of innocence.

Somehow, that made Hermione feel slightly better. Composing herself, she focused on Iris again.

In a softer but no less arrogant voice, she then added, "I'd be careful if I were you, Parkinson. You never know what might happen when you try to push someone too far down the line."

She thought she saw a glint of amusement pass through Tom's eyes, but she did not have the urge to speculate or check. So, after giving Iris a long, hard stare, she turned on her heels and marched towards the Gryffindor tower with Joseph chuckling beside her.

"Learned that from Malloy?" he inquired as they walked through the portrait hole.

"Pardon?"

"I was just wondering, since the way you blackmailed and threatened her sounded very Slytherin to me," Joseph commented, slouching into one of the armchairs.

"Don't be silly, Joseph," she chided, sitting down in an armchair herself.

Why must these people always pair her up with one of the Slytherins? For Merlin's sake! Her boyfriend was a Gryffindor, through and through. Well, yes ... he could be a coward at times, but that did not count; it was Riddle manipulating him.

She then blocked out the rest of the bad memories of Ron, which was made more difficult by the sounds of a certain dark-haired, bespectacled young man chuckling. She knew that there was nothing she could say to make Joseph see sense. Therefore, she told him she had to finish a Potions essay for that afternoon and proceeded to escape the common room. Rolling her eyes at his immaturity, she strolled towards the library, glad that there was at least one place in the whole castle that was still a sanctuary.

"Miss Granger!"

She looked up and found Slughorn striding towards her.

"Hello, Professor," she greeted him.

"Good day, Miss Granger," he replied in a bubbly tone of voice. "Lovely day ... you don't have a class this period, I presume."

"No, sir," she answered with a slight nod.

"Excellent!" he exclaimed, clapping his hands together. "Would you be a dear and take these books to Tom for me? I promised to give these to him this morning, but I was a bit ... preoccupied, and I do have a class waiting for me right now."

She nibbled her lower lip, contemplating on rejecting him, but the look on Slughorn's face was telling: He would never expect a "star student" to say "no." Additionally, he gave her a wink, which very nearly made her raise her eyebrows; she had thought that Tom explained things to the professor already. Why was he still giving her those gooseflesh-inducing winks?

Nevertheless, it was clear to her that there was no way out of it.

"Of course, Professor," she responded slowly, "but ... I don't know what class he's in right now."

After finding out that Tom was supposedly in the North Tower, taking his Divinations class, they parted ways. Hermione was left with five volumes of rather heavy books and a rekindling irritation at the prospect of seeing ** _him_** an hour earlier than she should.

So much for sanctuary.

Life really, ** _really_** sucked.

~-0-~

Draco lounged in his chair, annoyed with his decision to take Divinations.

Why, just _why_ had he decided to take the stupid course in the forties just because Sparkles in the Eyes said so? So what if he passed the test? He could have just voiced his disagreement, saying that he did not take the course back in the future.

Professor Nostredame was certainly no Trelawney—Draco snorted upon remembering that old fraud—but that was precisely the reason. He had taken the course because it was abysmally easy, but now ... Nostredame knew his stuff and expected his students to learn things, too. Draco heaved a sigh and glared at the crystals sitting on the professor's table. They were obviously going to learn _all_ about crystal balls today, and Draco Malfoy was certainly not looking forward to that.

"Did you do your homework for this class?" Abraxas asked, sliding into the seat next to him.

He nodded, making a face.

"This is ridiculous. Not everyone's cut out to be a Seer," Draco commented, thoroughly disgruntled about his homework.

His "masterpiece" resembled some kind of stupid horror fairytale, and he was sure that when it was returned to him, it would include a bunch of red marks indicating where he had erred.

Abraxas shrugged nonchalantly to his comment, a look of boredom on his face, and Draco had a hunch that he signed up for the class simply because the Dark Lord was taking it.

Sneakily, Draco shot a glance at Riddle, who had his eyebrows furrowed as he stared at his homework. Annoyance reignited again as Draco remembered whose fault it was that he was stuck in the same dormitory as He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named. Well, he could not exactly say that he was not pleased when he ended up in his old House again—it was certainly better than Hufflepuff, or even worse, Gryffindor—but at least old Sparkly could have warned him in advance about what could happen. The things he had to go through ...

Draco shook his head, unwilling to think about what had happened, and concentrated on what his grandfather had to say. Before Abraxas could speak again, however, the door behind the professor's table—which probably led to the professor's chamber—opened, and Nostredame entered the classroom, a stern look on his face and gold-rimmed eyeglasses perched on the rim of his nose.

"We will be learning about crystal balls today. First, however, your homeworks," Nostredame said, his dark, fathomless eyes as determined as usual.

He flicked his wand around; the parchments flew through the air and landed on top of his extended right hand in a neat pile.

"Mr. Goyle, copying a different sentence from different friends will not go undetected, regardless of if I am a Seer or not. I will not take off House points this time, but you will write me a three-feet essay regarding the role wind plays in Divinations," the professor stared pointedly at the man who was nearly an exact copy of the future Goyle.

Ignoring the complaints coming from Goyle, Nostredame stalked back to his table and picked up a diamond-shaped crystal.

"Now, who can tell me about crystals?"

A couple of hands shot up into the air, and Parkinson was chosen. Draco snorted in disbelief that the woman would dare attempt to answer. Honestly, he was surprised she made it all the way to seventh year in the first place.

Thankfully, her looks made up for her brain capacity.

Giving the Dark Lord what she must have thought was a flirtatious smile, Iris cleared her throat and spoke, "Crystals have been known to hold different memories throughout history. Some foreign wizards often use crystals to retrieve information from people who had owned them. The energy of crystals can also be channeled with that of the earth's to create a visual, however vague it might be, about the future."

Draco raised an eyebrow, mildly amused by her performance. Apparently, she felt more threatened by Granger than she had been showcasing, since her posture and way of talking strongly resembled Granger’s in more ways than one. She probably thought that expressing some form of intelligence would impress the Dark Lord. Not that Draco blamed her, but the mere thought of the Dark Lord fancying Hermione Granger, a Muggle-born witch, best friend of Harry Potter, was enough for him to laugh for days, though he never doubted the possibility of that—after all, Granger was intelligent, and the Dark Lord always valued talent and those who were useful to him. Draco shuddered at the thought of Hermione on the Dark Lord's side—Potty would have lost in a heartbeat.

Nostredame was clearly taken aback by Iris giving a correct answer for once since he paused briefly before opening his mouth again.

"Excellent answer, Miss Parkinson. Ten points to Slytherin," he awarded her.

She sat back down, her face expectant as she glanced at the Dark Lord again, and it brightened up when the object of her affection gave her a faint smile. Sadly enough, she did not notice the fact that the smile never reached his eyes.

"Crystals come in different shapes and sizes. Remember this: Shape does not determine the energy that it holds," Nostredame lectured. He picked up a heart-shaped crystal that was noticeably larger than the diamond-shaped one. "For example," he held up the diamond-shaped crystal, "this one holds more energy than the other one. How do we know? We let the energy flow into our body and detect it."

A couple of the Slytherin boys groaned along with Draco. All of this was too vague for them to comprehend. He had tried that before with tea cups four classes ago and had gotten a bunch of rubbish. According to the cup, he was supposed to be drenched in rain and then chased after by a bunch of ghosts last week. Fortunately, none of that happened.

"Different crystals have different usages," Nostredame continued. He placed the crystals in his hands back on the table and picked up a crystal ball. "Crystal balls are commonly used for seeing visions of the future. That is because their shape is approximately the same as the earth's, making the process of channeling the energy simpler." His eyes roamed over the students. "Would any of you like to try?"

Iris's hand immediately went up in the air. Apparently, Nostredame was surprised but happy about the enthusiasm she was showing today, so she was again chosen to assist him. He traveled down the aisle and placed the crystal ball in his hand on the stand on top of her table.

"Now, concentrate on feeling the atmosphere around you. When you feel like you can grasp onto some tendrils of the energy that passes through you, force it out of your body by your will and channel it into the crystal ball. Remember, you must concentrate on the task on hand," Nostredame instructed.

Iris closed her eyes. Draco, on the other hand, leaned back on his chair again, pretty sure that nothing would happen for a good amount of time. Perhaps he could even take a nap first.

Therefore, he was amazed when Iris's eyes opened and she stared intently into the crystal ball as if she were trying to find something beneath its smooth surface.

The rest of the class kept silent, but Draco noticed that the Dark Lord had leaned slightly closer to Iris, his eyes curious and alert at the same time.

"It ... it looks like a lion," she muttered, furrowing her eyebrows and trying to determine what she was seeing. "No, more like a lioness."

"Go on, dear," Nostredame encouraged.

"Yes," Iris replied, her forehead creasing even more. "But ... it's not very clear."

"Concentrate on channeling more of the Earth's energy into you, but without your eyes closed," Nostredame advised, staring into the crystal ball.

Even Draco's attention was on Iris now because it was apparent that Nostredame could see what Iris was seeing, and he had yet to make a correction on what she was describing.

"There's a mark on the lioness," spoke Iris, her eyes never leaving the crystal ball.

"A mark? Is it a wound?" Lilian Brown asked, her eyes shining with curiosity and fear at the same time—she was from the House of the Lions, after all.

"No, it's ... it's some kind of branding, or sign," Iris explained, narrowing her eyes. "It looks like a skull." Suddenly, a small smile tugged at the corner of her lips before her expression changed to that of a frightened one. "Oh ... does it mean that the Slytherins and Gryffindors are going to harm one another, Professor?" She stared at Nostredame as if she were seeking for guidance. "Does it mean ... someone from Slytherin might ... might kill a Gryffindor?"

"What is it? What do you see?" Betty Bulstrode asked.

Draco would have rolled his eyes at Iris's pathetic attempt at acting under other situations, but at the moment, he was curious about what she saw.

"There's ... there's a snake coming out of the mouth of the skull!" Iris finished dramatically.

A couple of things happened immediately after this declaration. Some of the girls in the room gasped. Draco's hand immediately flew over to his left forearm as his eyes widened in shock. The Dark Lord abruptly stood up from his chair, causing a squeaking sound to echo through the room; his face was falsely impassive, but his eyes turbulent. A couple of the Slytherin young men shifted uncomfortably in their chairs, Abraxas being one of them, attempting to get a clearer look at the crystal ball.

It took Draco a couple of seconds, but the moment he became conscious of where his hand was covering, he allowed it to drop, thankful that everyone's attention was still on Iris.

The Dark Lord moved behind Iris, his actions controlled, and an expression of interest spread across his face. He leaned forward, looking over Iris's shoulder, much to her pleasure.

"How strange that certain individuals can see visions from a crystal ball and others can't," he commented softly.

It was obviously a cover-up for his sudden action, and it successfully fooled most of the people in the room. Grudgingly, Draco had to admit that if he had not known in advance that this was the young Dark Lord, he would have believed in that look of fascination on his face. However, after so many encounters with He-Who-Must-Be-Named, Draco could clearly see that he was unsettled: Apparently, what Iris saw alarmed the Dark Lord.

What did the Dark Mark on a lioness mean?

"What else do you see?" the Dark Lord asked, placing his hands on Iris's shoulders, and he leaned even closer to her to the point that it almost seemed as if he were about to embrace her.

A look of glee flashed over her face, and she stared into the crystal ball again, presumably hoping she could find something else to tell the Dark Lord.

However, another female's voice spoke up coldly and interrupted.

"Funny, I've always wondered exactly why everyone wanted to take Divinations when it is clear that not everyone can be a Seer."

Draco whipped his head around and found Hermione Granger standing at the doorway, her arms crossed in front of her chest and her expression that of a predator ready to pounce.

_ Lioness, indeed _ , he thought absentmindedly.

With a start, he wondered if the lioness in the crystal were referring to Hermione. Did it mean that the Dark Lord might somehow ... ** _kill_** Granger?

"It appears that I've finally found the answer, or perhaps I'm in the wrong classroom?" she continued icily, her eyes traveling between the Dark Lord and Iris and landing on the hands that were still on Iris's shoulders. "I ** _thought_** this was supposed to be the Divinations classroom and there was a ** _class_** going on here."

Draco blinked; he suddenly had the urge to clear out his ears to check if he was hearing things right. Why did it almost sound as if Hermione were jealous?

The rest of the class remained quiet. Even the girls who usually taunted Hermione did not speak up—although it probably was because they were lacking their ringleaders. Mildred did not take that class, and Iris was busy drooling over the Dark Lord.

Professor Nostredame cleared his throat softly, catching Hermione’s attention and breaking through the uncomfortable silence, but she did not appear to be shaken by his presence at all.

Well, she did walk out of Trelawney's class before, so this probably was not too big of a deal to her.

"May I help you, Miss Granger?" he asked.

Nostredame seemed to be more forgiving than Trelawney, too.

"Professor Slughorn asked me to bring some books over to our _Head Boy_ ," she explained, saying the last two words with emphasis.

Draco did not know whether Nostredame heard the subtle mocking undertones, but if he did, he did not show it.

"Ah, I see," he replied and indicated with his hand for Hermione to proceed.

She strode over to where the Dark Lord and Iris were, opened her bag, pulled out five enormous books, and threw them on the table with distinctive thumps.

"Good day, Professor," she chimed and strutted out of the classroom without a second look at the Dark Lord or Iris, slamming the door shut behind her.

The loud bang brought Draco back to his senses, and he looked over to where the Dark Lord and Iris were. Iris looked absolutely thrilled about the situation while the Dark Lord stared at the closed door with slightly narrowed eyes. From three tables away, Draco could taste his displeasure, even if no one else noticed.

A shiver ran down his spine as the professor asked for another volunteer to look into the crystal ball.

Things were getting far too complicated for Draco Malfoy's taste.

~-0-~

The tension hardly diminished throughout the entire day. Iris had requested for Tom’s help during Defense class, leaving Draco as her partner. Therefore, though Hermione managed to pretend that a certain Slytherin duo did not exist, it was quite impossible to do that during Herbology.

The good thing about that class was the fact that she did not have to hear Iris's voice at all, seeing that she did not take the class. The bad thing was, although Professor Ferns was, luckily, not one of those professors who tried to make the two of the supposed lovers work together, Hermione still had to endure He-Who-Should-Be-Castrated's presence since his working area was right next to hers.

The last class of the day was the one she dreaded the most. Although Slughorn probably would not mention about them being a pair after Tom spoke to him—at least, Hermione hoped he would not—she still had to work with Tom. She was ** _not_** in the mood to face him for the whole entire hour. It was honestly enough that she had to endure Iris's giggles already, but Hermione was positive that she would also make snide remarks if Tom were to work on the assignment with her. Therefore, she kept her eyes on her Potions textbook when the door opened and the object of her irritation entered the classroom.

She let out a nearly inaudible growl when he sat down beside her, though she could not help but be slightly surprised. Strangely enough, Iris was not hanging onto his arm like a demented monkey. In fact, she was nowhere in sight. Half of Hermione's mind was curious about why—the woman could not keep her hands off Tom, so why stop now?—however, she was definitely _not_ going to ask him.

From the corner of her eye, she saw him cast a quick look around the room; it did not escape her notice that his Knights nodded to him when he caught their eyes. Subtly, everyone in the room was soon talking and "conveniently" not noticing what was going on at Hermione and Tom's table.

He suddenly grabbed her arms and pulled her towards him. It would have been easy for her to raise her voice and alert everyone in the room, but her pride would not allow her to do that, and she was sure he knew, which was why he chose to talk to her right then and there instead of cornering her in one of the empty corridors. Therefore, she stared right back at him.

" ** _What_** is your problem?" she hissed venomously.

"That was precisely what I was going to ask ** _you_** , Granger," he hissed right back.

"I don't ** _have_** one," she growled.

"Yes, you do, and you should bloody well mind your attitude around me," he warned, narrowing his eyes.

"Do I really, now?" she asked, grinning humorlessly. "What else should I do while I'm at it, Your Highness? Clean the floors? Wash the clothes? Make your bed? Prepare your meal?"

His eyes momentarily flashed red at her words, but she had had enough of him already, and she refused to look away. It was just like what happened back in the Great Hall at breakfast, and they were finally forced to stop their battle again when the door to the dungeons opened and Slughorn entered the classroom. Tom quickly released her and sat in his chair as if nothing had happened.

When Slughorn passed by Hermione's desk, he stopped and stooped down until he was right next to her ear.

"Did everything work out between you and Tom?" he asked in a soft voice.

So Slughorn thought that making her take those books over to Tom would give her a chance to work things out with him. She had to stop herself from rolling her eyes.

"Somewhat," she answered vaguely, not wanting to give him another reason to meddle in their ... relationship.

Slughorn gave her a pat on the shoulders before leaving her side. She heaved a sigh and resolutely ignored the cold glares Lord Need-A-Life was giving her.

After Slughorn gave out a short lecture about the potion they were going to brew today, he waved his wand, and a set of instructions appeared on the board.

Surprisingly, despite being irritated with Hermione, Tom still went to the supply cabinet to get the needed ingredients.

"Professor," Iris called out in what she probably thought was a sweet voice after Tom returned to his seat.

Hermione already had an inkling about what it was going to be about, so after muttering a short "Thanks" to Tom, she grabbed a unicorn horn and started cutting it into squares, pretending that it was Iris and Tom's faces.

"Yes, Iris?" Slughorn asked.

"Can Tom help me with the potion? I wasn't here for the past few weeks, and I'm not really sure I can work it out by myself," she requested, lowering her eyelids and hiding her eyes from view.

_ Yeah, sure. Let's do what we did in Defense class again. "Tom, how do I hold the wand? Can you show me?" and then grabbing his hand and making him hold her hand. Well, I'll teach her an easier way for Potions. One, light the fire. Two, wait till the water boils. Three, stuff thy head into the cauldron. There _ , Hermione thought viciously, gritting her teeth.

"Well ... er ... I guess so," Slughorn replied slowly. "As long as Hermione doesn't mind, that is." He looked at Hermione apologetically.

"Of course," she immediately answered, not even bothering to look up from the process of unicorn horn mutilation. "He can help Iris. I'm sure she'd need all the help she can get, since she did miss the classes."

_ And please help her with her psychological problems while you're at it. She'll need a lot of help in that particular area _ , she mentally added.

"Thanks, Hermione," the Potions professor smiled at her.

_ Excellent. That means I get to spend less time with _ ** him ** , Hermione thought, giving Slughorn a rather forced smile as Tom made his way to the other side of the room.

She pointedly kept her eyes on the potion ingredient and ignored the silly giggles to the best of her abilities.

"Try not to crush that into powder, Granger. We still need them for the potion, and they won't work if they're not in squares," Draco drawled, sliding into the seat beside her.

Hermione stared at the unicorn horn, which was just short of becoming fine powder, before she looked at the blond beside her.

"What are you doing here?" she asked.

"You do need a partner, don't you?" he asked, raising an eyebrow. He paused before leaning a bit closer to her. "Are you alright?"

"Why wouldn't I be?" she huffed, glancing back at the ingredients and avoiding the scene on the other side of the room as best as she could.

"Today in Divinations—"

"I was annoyed with Iris," she immediately cut in.

"Yes, but it seemed to be more out of jealousy than ..." he trailed off, watching Hermione's expression carefully.

"Malloy," she called his temporary surname warningly, and with emphasis on each word, she said, "I have Ron already."

But clearly, her tone of voice did not frighten him. On the contrary, a smirk appeared on his pale, pointed face.

"Ah, yes. The Weasel King. How can I forget about him?"

A look of astonishment appeared on Draco's face when all Hermione did was roll her eyes at his "endearment" for her boyfriend. Composing himself and storing that little piece of information away for future reference, he waited for Hermione to say something.

But she didn't. Silence settled between them as she threw the unicorn horn squares into the cauldron and watched the water turn a silvery-pink color. Draco did not press the issue any further; he grabbed a pinch of star lilies and started to shred them into strands.

"The earlier we return home, the better," Hermione muttered as her eyes finally landed on Tom, who was stirring the cauldron with a ladle as Iris attempted to strike up a conversation with him. "I can't wait to see Ron again."

And that was precisely what she tried to tell herself throughout the entire class.

~-0-~

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **A/N** : Huge thanks to my beta, LSMerlot!


	20. Chapter 20

**Chapter 20**

Needless to say, Hermione was in a very bad mood for the rest of the day. In fact, the foul temper continued on into Friday night when she was preparing herself for Slughorn's party. Joseph and she agreed to meet with one another at six-thirty so they could reach Slughorn's office in due time.

She rubbed the bridge of her nose, not overly enthusiastic about the party tonight—the Dark Lord, the cow, the Dark Lord's minions. Yup, she was not enthusiastic about it at all. It was tiresome and useless if the ones she had attended before were anything to go by. However, it was obviously too late to turn down the invitation, especially when she had asked Joseph to go with her already.

Most importantly, the last thing she wanted was people spreading rumors that she skipped the Slug Club party because she was crying over Tom.

Ew.

With that thought in mind, she decided to borrow a nice dress from Megan, who was slightly taller than she was. Obviously, she was not one of those conservative witches because she immediately tried to force Hermione into a low-cut, blood-red-colored gown. Hermione quickly declined and managed to convince Megan to let her choose her own gown. So, with a simple levitation charm, she brought Megan's collection of gowns into the seventh year dormitory and sifted through them until she found the simplest one out of the batch, which was a peach-colored gown that reached the floor.

"You look gorgeous, dear," the mirror said to her as she applied some light make-up to her face.

What was meant to be an encouragement made her even more nervous, and with a sigh, she walked down the stairs. Joseph was waiting by the portrait hole, talking quietly to Gareth.

"Oh, hi, Hermione," Gareth greeted her pleasantly.

Joseph, however, looked at her critically.

"That will not do, Hermione," he immediately said.

"What?" she asked, surprised.

"Don't you think you're a bit underdressed?" he asked, a light frown creasing his forehead.

In her opinion, she felt that she was already overdressed. She recalled what she wore to Slughorn's party back in the future, and it was certainly not as formal as what she was wearing right now.

"This will not do," Joseph repeated himself before marching over to the staircase. "Megan!"

Megan immediately popped out her head from her room and looked at Joseph questioningly. She was also preparing herself for the Slug Club party and looked slightly annoyed at being interrupted.

"Dress her up," he ordered, pointing at Hermione.

Megan's face immediately brightened up, and before Hermione could say something, she was already pulled into the dormitory again.

"I don't think I'm underdressed," she finally opened her mouth and protested as Megan rummaged through the gowns.

"You can't really blame Joseph, actually," Megan said as she picked up a pink-colored gown, wrinkled her nose, and threw it to the side. "No extravagant colors for you, I guess."

"No, please," Hermione replied.

"His cousin, Titurius Burke, will be there," Megan explained as she pulled out a stocking from the pile and threw it to one side. "He's the world's biggest chatterbox, and Joseph hates it when they meet. Titurius always manages to twist every situation into a scandal. The last thing Joseph wants is to return home during Christmas to find his parents waiting to give him a trial. Oh, this one will do."

Pushing the gown into Hermione's hands, she ushered her to change, and there was certain determination in Megan's voice that told Hermione that she would not take "no" as an answer. Heaving a sigh, Hermione quickly took off the dress she was wearing and pulled on the new dress Megan picked out. The strapless, lilac dress hugged her figure until right below her waist and then flared out until it reached the floor. A rose, the same color as the dress, gathered the skirt at her left hip.

"Perfect," Megan commented, satisfied, a few minutes later when she was finished dressing her up.

Thankfully, the gown was not overly revealing. She would have felt uncomfortable if it were, but at the moment, the only thought running through her mind was how beautiful it was. Glancing at her reflection, she realized that she did like what Megan had done. It was very flattering to her physique, and Megan had taken less than twenty minutes to get everything done. The make-up was definitely not light, but the subtle tones brought out her features spectacularly. Hermione wished she had had Megan around to help her back when she was preparing for the Yule Ball. Then, it would have cost her far less time to tame her hair. It had taken her hours to get it somewhat smooth and shiny.

However, this was  ** _not_**  the Yule Ball, and in Hermione's opinion, this was a bit too much for a party that was arranged by  ** _Slughorn_**.

Hermione shook her head. "Now, I'm definitely overdressed."

"No, you're not. I assure you that there will be people there who are wearing more extravagant things than you are. Don't be surprised if you see girls with feathers in their hats or ball gowns and such," Megan reassured her. She then pointed at herself. "Look at what I'm wearing."

It was then that Hermione realized that Megan was also wearing an evening gown, but hers was orange colored.

"Old Sluggie loves showing off what he deems as his star students," Megan rolled her eyes. "Merlin forbid that one of us shows up in casual wear. No, I walked into the party with simple dress robes during third year. He caught me right at the entrance—made me go back and change immediately." She eyed the peach-colored dress that was now lying on top of Hermione's bed. "I can't believe I've forgotten to take that one out of the trunk. Good thing Joseph made you change; I wore that two years ago, and Titurius would most definitely remember that."

Hermione could feel the dislike for this Titurius bloke increase with each passing second.

"And besides," Megan continued, giving Hermione a mischievous grin, "don't you want this chance to show our Head Boy what he's missing out on?"

"Megan!" Hermione screeched, although she suddenly felt her stomach lurch ...  ** _no_** , it definitely was not excitement.

"Yeah, yeah. Joseph told me all about it," she waved her hand at Hermione. "I know you're not going out with Tom, but this is a perfect chance to show those people out there that you're not any worse than Iris."

And all Hermione could do when Megan gave her a wink was roll her eyes and sigh.

~-0-~

Hermione gave the gawking Gareth and Joseph a shy smile as she walked down the stairs. The same feeling from the Yule Ball rushed back to her, and she was slightly feeling giddier about the evening. Her hand nervously went up to one of the curls framing her face and patted it lightly.

"Wow, Hermione," was all Gareth could say before he resumed staring.

Hermione stifled a laugh and strode over to Joseph, who had both of his eyebrows raised.

"Who knew that there were such lovely features behind those books and underneath that unmanageable hair?" he commented.

Hermione was about to come back with a snarky response of her own, but Joseph bowed down and took a hold of her hand.

"You look lovely, Hermione." And he gave her a light kiss on the back of her hand. He straightened up and held out his arm. "Shall we proceed to the party and show what a lovely Siren I've brought with me tonight?"

In despite of herself, Hermione giggled and looped her arm around his.

"Megan told you about my 'delightful' cousin, didn't she?" he asked offhandedly as they walked towards Slughorn's office.

"Yes," she replied. A mischievous smile appeared on her face. "Shall we pretend that I don't speak English well?"

Joseph snickered. "That won't be necessary. Just make sure you don't give him too much information about who you are. If he asks anything about us, keep it simple so he won't get the wrong idea."

Hermione nodded, not looking forward to meeting this bloke at all.

She entered the office with Joseph. Despite the fact that the two Gryffindors had arrived early, there were still a good amount of people who had arrived earlier than they did, and true to Megan's words, many of the girls were wearing evening gowns and hats embroidered with feathers, lace, and frills.

The decorations for Christmas were up in Slughorn's room. A gigantic Christmas tree stood approximately ten feet away from the fireplace, and a slow waltz was playing in the background. The refreshment table was a few feet away from the Christmas tree. Trays carried used glasses and plates away from the attendees to a corner, where a house-elf would collect them to the kitchen. Fairies of different colors flew around the room, providing minimal light, and Hermione would've probably been fascinated by how romantic it appeared if her eyes hadn't landed on a particular dark-haired young man.

Tom was wearing simple, black dress robes, yet he easily stood out. The minimal lighting strangely enhanced his eyes, making them glow like phantom lights that lured lost wanderers deeper into the mysteries of a dark forest. It was something that Hermione had always found intriguing. His eyes seemed luminescent in the dark, reminding her of how the eyes of wolves shined at night. He was now discreetly glancing around the room while he smiled politely to a wizard who seemed to be, at most, in his early twenties. The latter was talking animatedly and didn't seem to notice that Tom's concentration was not entirely on him.

Hermione's eyes slightly narrowed when she noticed Iris hanging onto Tom's arm. Grudgingly, she had to admit that she looked quite beautiful in the light green dress and a few curls of her hair framing her heart-shaped face.

All of a sudden, Tom looked towards her direction. His dark gaze seemed to intensify to Hermione, and it was almost as if he were slightly distraught with the turbulence that swam in his eyes until an eerie coldness settled in them. However, he did not look away from her. Allowing an impassive mask to slide over her face, she tilted her head towards him as a greeting, her posture and actions mimicking exactly how he had treated her for the past few days since Iris returned. His eyes flickered and narrowed.

"Hermione, Mr. Potter, how good of you to join us," Slughorn's voice caught her attention.

She swiveled her head around and found him standing a small distance away from them. The two Gryffindors walked towards Slughorn with polite smiles on their faces.

"Thank you for inviting us, Professor," Hermione uttered.

"Nonsense," Slughorn chided. The smile reappeared on his face. "Many of my former students," he waved his hand nonchalantly around, "are here tonight, and I'm sure a fair few would be delighted to make your acquaintances." He took a step closer to Hermione and whispered, "Now, don't forget your old Potions professor when you're making Galleons, my dear."

"Of course," she smiled, thinking ironically about what might happen in the future.

"Excellent," Slughorn said with a beam. He clapped his hands on Hermione and Joseph's shoulders. "The refreshments are on that table along the wall. Enjoy yourselves!"

After saying their thanks, they were making their way across the room when a booming voice stopped them in their tracks.

"Joseph!"

A grimace appeared on Joseph's face before he plastered a fake smile over it.

"Hello, Titurius," he greeted the wizard who was walking towards them.

It turned out to be the young man who was previously chatting with Tom, and Hermione took the chance to take a better look at the person Joseph had so wanted to avoid. The wizard was not exactly unattractive, but standing next to Joseph, he could only be considered plain, although his dress robes were much more extravagant with their frills and laces. He, too, had jet-black hair that was slightly messy, but not as unruly. Instead of dark brown eyes like Joseph, Titurius had light blue eyes.

"Fancy seeing you here," Titurius Burke said as he eyed Joseph from head to toe before he turned his attention over to Hermione. "And who's this young lady?"

"My friend, Hermione," Joseph answered, deliberately being short and to the point. "My cousin, Titurius Burke."

"Really?" Titurius asked. "Nice to meet you, Miss ..."

"Granger," Hermione replied after some thought. "Nice to meet you, too."

"I don't recall seeing you before," Titurius commented, eying her curiously.

"She's a transfer student," Joseph explained. He then placed his hand at the small of Hermione's back. "From Durmstrang. Now, if you will excuse us, Hermione's a bit thirsty, so it's best if—"

"Ah, Durmstrang," Titurius ignored Joseph and focused his attention on Hermione instead. "Very interesting school. One of my best friends previously attended there. How do you like it here at Hogwarts? Very different environments."

"I miss my school, of course, but it is nice to be somewhere warmer," Hermione answered, remembering all the details Viktor had told her about the school.

"I see," he nodded before his eyes flitted to Joseph and then back to her. "So how did my dearest cousin meet such a beautiful young lady like you?"

"We're both in Gryffindor," Hermione replied, noticing how Joseph's body stiffened he was mentioned.

"Surely he'd been a gentleman and showed you around the castle?" Titurius grinned.

Hermione nearly raised her eyebrows, realizing what he was trying to do.

"We both have classes, so it would be rather hard for him to show me around all the time," she answered. "Hm ... it's rather hot in here," she stared pointedly at the fireplace. "Shall we get ourselves some drinks, Joseph?"

"Certainly," Joseph said with a smile.

"Then, I bid you good-bye, Mr. Burke," she tilted her head towards him.

The two of them then quickly headed towards the refreshments table before Titurius could call them back.

"Did I do alright? Will he say anything to your parents?" Hermione asked worriedly.

"I doubt he would NOT have something to tell them, but you did wonderfully, Hermione. I thank you," he said, tilting his head towards her with a smile. "And, I can safely say that he couldn't possibly say anything negative about such an elegant young lady."

"Oh, stop it, Joseph," she laughed and punched him on the shoulder good-naturedly.

"Nuh-uh, Hermione. A proper young lady should not punch such a dashing young man like me," Joseph teased, shaking his forefinger at her.

She rolled her eyes but could not stop herself from giggling.

"So, will you grant me some fun time before I return home to my parents and receive my Christmas gift of mental torture?" Joseph asked with a grin on his face, too.

"It will be my pleasure," she replied with a smile of her own.

He then led her to the dance floor, and they swayed to the slow waltz that was playing while they chatted softly between themselves. A little while later, from the corner of her eye, she saw a familiar blond making his way towards them.

"Ah, look who we have here?" Joseph asked with mock surprise. "Your dearest Draco."

"Yes, I'm so enthusiastic to see him," she replied sarcastically, rolling her eyes.

"Then I shall take leave of you. If you need me, I shall be at the refreshments table, mending my broken heart," Joseph uttered solemnly.

"I will. Make sure to forget some pins and needles inside your heart then," she said jovially, waving her hand at him.

He clutched onto his heart and stumbled away as if he were truly injured, leaving Hermione thoroughly amused and her mood very much improved.

"Did you  ** _hear_**  what they're spreading around?" Draco immediately grabbed her arm and asked.

"Why, hello to you, too, Draco," she greeted him, raising her eyebrows at how frantic he seemed.

She then turned around and walked towards one of the chairs and sat down, staring at the fairies flying around the ceiling.

"They're saying that  ** _I'm_**  your boyfriend. Me! You!" he exclaimed, pointing at himself and then her as he sat down in the chair beside her.

"Well, isn't that just all cheery and nice," she commented dryly, crossing her arms in front of her chest.

"Hermione, it's ** _not_**  funny," he protested.

"It certainly isn't," she agreed, a frown appearing on her forehead. "I'm being paired with ferret boy out of all people."

"Granger," he growled.

She laughed. "I'm surprised you hadn't heard the rumors earlier."

"I am, too. I should have guessed with  ** _him_**  sending me unfriendly glares," Draco muttered under his breath. She nearly did not hear what he said and was about to question him about what he meant when he continued, "What are we going to do?"

She heaved a sigh and shrugged. "Well, there's nothing we can do about it, is there? As ... someone once told me, the more you talk about it, the more things they get to spread around. Just ignore it, and they'll soon move on to something else to chatter about."

Her eyes unconsciously landed on a certain dark-haired young man who was leaning against the wall, listening to something Augustus Rookwood was telling him. His eyes, however, were not on his fellow Slytherin. She followed his eyesight and found Alphard a small distance away, getting himself a drink.

"Did Alphard do something to To–Riddle?" she asked.

"No. Why?" Draco looked at her curiously.

"He's looking at him," she commented.

"Well, it's not all that strange. They mostly ignore one another when we're back in the common room, but everyone can tell that there's some kind of competition between the two of them," Draco shrugged.

"Competition?" she inquired.

"Not that Alphard really stands a chance against your high and mighty Tom," Draco answered, a smirk sliding on to his face and disregarding how Hermione narrowed her eyes at him, "but there's always that struggle for being the best in Slytherin."

"What about his other ... 'friends'?" she asked.

Draco snorted. "Friends, indeed. Most of them are more scared of him than anything, to tell the truth, including Abraxas."

"Not surprisingly," Hermione stated.

"The only one who dares to ignore Tom's orders is Alphard," Draco continued, ignoring her statement about his grandfather, "but he hardly does it for Cygnus and Orion's sake. The two of them worship the floor Tom walks on," he rolled his eyes. He raised an eyebrow at Hermione. "Oh dear. You'll have to hurry and get in line, Hermione."

"For what?" she asked, startled by the sudden change of subject.

"To worship the floor  ** _he_**  walks on," Draco snickered.

" ** _What_**?"

"Well, why else were you noticing everything Tommy dear does? I certainly didn't see him observing Alphard," he replied, amusement laced throughout his words.

"That is because  ** _I_** , for one, care about my friends," she retorted. Lowering her voice, she continued, "Seeing that it's  ** _Lord Voldemort_** ," she smirked when he flinched at the name, "who is currently staring at him, I'm concerned about Alphard's safety."

Draco straightened himself a bit and allowed the smirk to reappear on his face. "Really? Alphard better watch out next, then. I'm so glad you're  ** _so_**  considerate of your friends, since this is **_obviously_**  a way to help me out of my dilemma, then."

"Huh?" Hermione crinkled her forehead. "What are you going on about now?"

He raised an eyebrow at her. "You can't tell me you didn't notice that Riddle basically ignored you after you had to blabber around that you have a boyfriend, and you can't tell me you didn't notice how displeased he was when you were joking and laughing with Joseph Potter. Merlin, anyone who had the possibility of being your boyfriend was better off hiding in the boys' dormitory." He slightly shuddered.

She stared at him, in shock by all the things he was telling her. She then snorted after she recomposed herself. "Don't tell me you decided to come to the party with Melantha Parkinson because of that."

"Yes," he mumbled.

She doubled over in laughter.

"Granger," he growled. He leaned closer to her and in a lower voice told her, "I've been through enough torturing sessions for those years prior to when Potty vanquished him. I am  ** _not_**  ready to give him reasons to Cruciate me whenever he's in a bad mood, which he  ** _is_** , nearly every day after he found out you had a pet weasel."

_Really?_

Her stomach flip-flopped at the thought of that being true, but then she recalled whom Draco was talking about. Tom Marvolo Riddle had tons of reasons to be in a foul mood. It most likely had nothing to do with her.

He probably got stumped by another toddler problem.

So, she responded accordingly. "He doesn't seem very unhappy," she retorted wryly.

"That's because you're not in perspective, or you're just in denial, distorting every signal he sent out with that blockhead of yours," he concluded, leaning away from her and flicking his forefinger on her forehead.

"Well, Iris did return by then," she pointed out, deep in thought. "He could be merely placing more time on her, so he didn't have time to entertain himself by intimidating me."

"Well,  ** _that_**  same Iris tried to make him jealous right afterwards, by nearly sitting on top of Serafeim Mulciber's  ** _lap_** , but what did he do? Nothing.  ** _Nothing_**  at all, not so much as a glance or a quirk of the eyebrow, kept on reading that enormous library book about Merlin knows what. And that time in Divinations? If it were Iris or some other admirer of his, he'd have had a good laugh at their behavior, and confronting them right before class? Out of the question. He has a reputation to maintain, and there weren't only Slytherins in Potions that day," Draco drawled.

Her heart slightly sped up at his words, and her face flushed slightly red.

"Riddle ... that's ... impossible," she whispered.

"Well, I certainly hope it is," he said and then mockingly added, "because if I hadn't known better I would've thought that he was jealous."

She frowned at his statement and flicked him back on the forehead.

"Oye! Ow! What was that for?" he protested, rubbing his forehead with his fingers.

"You're just trying to find out if I like him, aren't you?" She glared at him. "You're just making everything up."

Before he could answer, a girl stomped up to them, grabbed Draco's arm, and pulled him up.

"There you are. I've been looking all over for you," the girl said to him, throwing Hermione a dirty look.

"Just chatting with my ... friend," Draco answered, giving Hermione a wink, and she suddenly remembered that the girl was Iris's younger sister.

Melantha saw the interaction between the two of them, narrowed her eyes, and started dragging him away.

"We still haven't danced yet. I really ..." Melantha's words were then drowned out by the other chatter in the room.

Hermione chuckled softly to herself, amazed by the attraction Draco had on girls with the surname of Parkinson. Although ... Iris seemed to be the only exception.

Then again, what was wrong with these Parkinson sisters? Honestly, both of them saw her as a threat when it came down to their men.

She watched as Iris pranced towards Tom, her face flushed red with excitement and two cups of drinks in her hand. He politely declined the cup she handed towards him, and Hermione was suddenly reminded of what very nearly happened to Harry with Romilda Vane during sixth year. She wondered if that cup of juice was spiked with Amortentia, too.

It was impossible. He was ... well ... Tom Riddle. It was impossible that he cared about what Hermione was doing, right? Not that she cared, of course. Ferret boy was seeing things. He obviously cracked under the stress of having to live in the same dorm as Voldemort like he had when he found out whom he had landed on top of when they first arrived in the past. Voldemort Cruciating him because he thought Draco Malloy was her boyfriend. Hermione snorted. Yeah, right. Too much fur clogging up his brain.

As the cow rushed away, undoubtedly on some pointless mission given to her by Tom, he looked up, and their eyes locked. The tips of his lips curved upwards.

Well, there was one thing right about Draco's hallucinations, and that was she could not see things straight when it concerned her emotions. She had to admit that she had been overly emotional in the past few days simply because she was irritated with Tom Riddle. Yes, she was irritated ... by his attitude. Yes, that was it. So, she just wanted to make sure she had **_not_**  been mistaken; she had to prove that she was correct. Yeah, that was it. It was not because she hoped that Draco  ** _might_**  be right. Nope. Definitely not. Therefore, she tried to analyze Tom's expression with a cool head, but before she could do so, someone walked in front of her, blocking him from view.

"Oh, hello," she greeted the Slytherin standing in front of her.

"Not dancing?" Alphard asked, raising an eyebrow at her.

She looked around and shrugged. "No partner."

He held out his hand. "May I have the honor of dancing with the prettiest lady in the room?"

She grinned and placed her hand in his. He led her to the dance floor and placed his hand on her waist.

"So ... how have you been? I haven't talked to you for a while," he asked, twirling her around.

The lights given off by the fairies, which seemed to increase by the minute, swirled around, mesmerizing her for a second and reminding her of stars in the sky.

"The same as usual," she answered, letting her eyes follow a particular purple fairy.

"Really?" Alphard raised an eyebrow.

She glanced at him and raised her eyebrows, too. "And why would you think otherwise?"

He smiled and did not answer, his eyes thoughtful.

"I should apologize for angering you that day, in the classroom," he said.

She was about to open her mouth and tell him not to worry about it until she heard his next words.

"However, I do not take back what I said the other day," he finished.

"Alphard ..."

"Hermione, I do not wish to pry into your personal business, but ... did you really know what you were doing in Divinations yesterday?" he questioned her.

So much for not prying into her personal business. Hermione could not help but feel slightly miffed about the accusatory tone of voice he was talking to her with.

"Alphard, I have a boyfriend already," she said, her voice harsher than usual. "It's being spread all over the school, and I'd be surprised if you haven't heard it yet. Besides, even if, just  ** _if_**  I don't have one, why does it matter to you who I have my eyes on?"

His eyebrows furrowed, and it was after the words left her mouth that she remembered that Alphard was simply worried about her. Nevertheless, she still felt that he was sticking his nose too far into her business.

He opened his mouth and was about to say something, but Hermione beat him to it.

"Sorry, I have been a bit stressed for a while already. I shouldn't have snapped at you like that," she apologized and then stepped away from him. "I ... I just need some time to myself. I'll see you later."

She turned around and walked off the dance floor towards the refreshments table, thankful that Alphard knew better than to follow and pester her. She looked around for her partner, but Joseph was nowhere in sight. She'd rather face his teasing than hear Alphard's accusations. It was too much, just too much, and it made her far too irritated for a night of relaxation and joy she promised herself.

Suddenly, she heard a rather familiar giggle, which dampened her mood even more. She turned her head slightly and found Iris still hanging onto Tom's arm and Titurius standing next to them. Hermione immediately took a step to the right so that she was completely hidden from their view behind the Christmas tree. The last thing she needed that night was for Iris to make snide remarks at her; she couldn't guarantee what she would do if Iris tried. From her position, however, she could still hear what they were saying.

"Ah, do you know Hermione?" she heard Titurius ask Iris.

Hermione scrunched up her face; out of everyone in the room, the gossip had to choose the person who had issues with her.

"Of course I do."

Hermione could hear the sneer in her voice without looking at her.

"She seems to be ... quite chummy with Tom here, according to some of the other people I've spoken to," he commented, causing Hermione's cheeks to warm.

Iris gave a rather exaggerated laugh.

"You have to be joking, Mr. Burke. You haven't seen them so much as speak to one another tonight thus far, have you? No, she's much better ...  ** _friends_**  with Mr. Malloy and Mr. Potter," Iris answered, the laughter not quite leaving her voice yet.

"Really? Mr. Malloy, as in ..."

"Draco Malloy, the young man dancing with my younger sister right there."

"And Mr. Potter, as in Joseph Potter?"

"The one and only," Iris replied, the sneer in her voice once again.

Hermione nearly slapped her forehead out of frustration, and for Joseph's sake, she really wanted to curse Iris right then and there. Unfortunately, there were too many witnesses, and Slughorn was sitting in a chair a few paces away, talking to a rather pretty witch.

This was bad. Really, really bad. She could only imagine what Joseph would have to go through during Christmas vacation now that Titurius had gotten some supposed "news" from his "fellow classmates."

"Have they known one another for long?" Titurius continued to ask.

"You mean Mr. Potter? Well, I don't know your definition for 'long,'" Iris answered, giggling softly, "but they hardly leave one another's sides since she transferred to Hogwarts."

Hermione rolled her eyes. Trust a Parkinson to exaggerate things.

"Does Mr. Potter seem to be ... interested in Miss Granger?" Titurius asked.

A pause followed his words before Iris said, "I don't know for sure, but he does take  ** _really_**  good care of her. He obviously doesn't despise her if he's willing to come to Professor Slughorn's party with her, although I did hear," she lowered her voice mysteriously at this point, and Hermione had to strain her ears to hear what she was saying over the music, "that Miss Granger was the one who asked Mr. Potter to come with her."

"So Mr. Potter was forced to come with Miss Granger?"

Iris giggled again. "I can't really say forced. After all, who can force a bloke like Mr. Potter to do anything he doesn't want to do, but from what I've heard, Miss Granger is rather aggressive when it comes to men."

Hermione's jaws dropped open at such a proclamation. How dare that cow taint her reputation like that? Oh, she would show that stupid Slytherin witch aggressive. Her hand flew to her wand, and she was about to pull it out and hex Iris before she heard Titurius's next question.

"Tom must be pretty devastated then ... unless ... are you two really an item?"

"Can't say we are. After all, I'm not nearly as wealthy as  ** _Mr. Potter_**  or come from a social background like his," Tom said.

Was that how he perceived her? Was that the kind of woman he thought she was? She felt a sharp stab in her heart at his words.

"See? I told you they weren't dating," Iris immediately said, her satisfaction seeping from her tone of voice.

Her hand loosened around her wand and tightened again as different curses flashed through her mind, except this time, the target of it would undoubtedly be Riddle instead of the cow. She contemplated on using the spell she used back in sixth year on Ron, but that was a bit ... too mild in her opinion.

 _No, it doesn't affect me. It does_ **not** _affect me at all. Why should it affect me?_  she thought even while she felt unprecedented emotions welling up in her.

No, she was simply angry because he was ... defaming her. Yes! He was defaming her. And she actually thought Lord Make-Everyone's-Life-A-Living-Hell-Because-His-Childhood-Was-Too was supposed to be clever and had some kind of fabulous insight into other people's motivations. That unbelievable arse, making that kind of statement about her to others! Yes, that was why she was angry. It was not because what he said hurt her. She did not care about Tom Marvolo Riddle, so why would his words hurt her? Nonsense!

Yet, his words continued to replay themselves in her mind, and she felt her heart dropping to the bottom of her stomach.

Oh, for Merlin's sake! She was  ** _definitely_** not going to become all emotional because of something he said. And what was she thinking, hexing him in front of Slughorn?

She quickly pocketed her wand, glad that the logical side of her brain was working again.

_Tom Marvolo Riddle better watch where he's going for the next few days._

She could not guarantee what she would do if she got the chance to hex him.

"Hermione, I was looking all over for you! Silly me. I should've thought that you would be at the refreshments table," Joseph laughed. He stopped in front of her and eyed her carefully. In a lower voice, he asked, "Are you alright? You look ... angry."

"I'm fine," she answered in a clipped tone of voice. "Excuse me, I need to go to the loo."

She honestly needed a breather. If she continued seeing Iris or Tom, she might just attack them with any hex or curse that came to her mind, and that would not do. The last thing she wanted was to spend time in detention.

When she was two hallways away from Slughorn's office, she finally stopped and leaned with her back against the wall, allowing the coolness of it to calm her down. She was still very, very pissed. Ugh.

She tried to think of happier things. Ron ... Ron! She should think of him! That would make her happier.

_"I've gotten something for you, but you will have to wait till Christmas."_

She froze, clenching her hands into fists. The way his voice spoke ... the sweetness in it ... it seemed further and further away from her. The words were hollow, without feelings, no longer giving her that fuzzy and warm feeling in the pit of her stomach. This couldn't be happening to her. It had only been two and a half months! She tried to grasp it, touch it somehow, but the harder she tried to hold on to it, the faster it seemed to be slipping away from her.

Gareth Weasley constantly reminded her of him, but the feeling was ...  _subsiding_.  _Her feelings towards Ron were subsiding!_ It made her question herself. Did she really love Ron as much as she thought she loved him? Or was it because he was there? Because he was just someone she was extremely familiar with?

She didn't understand. She didn't  ** _want_** _to_  understand. This was absurd, crazy, and illogical. And her mind couldn't comprehend it. She wanted to pull on her hair, try to relieve some of the frustration she was going through. It was too big of a revelation, and she  _was not ready for it_. She closed her eyes tightly and furrowed her eyebrows, doing her best to remember that endearing tone of voice she had become accustomed to after the war.

A hand grasped her out of her thoughts, causing her to yelp, and pulled her into an empty classroom.

~-0-~

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **A/N** : Huge thanks to my betas: LSMerlot and Nerys!


	21. Chapter 21

**Chapter 21**

She shivered.

Tingles traveled from his fingertips where they came in contact with her bare skin to her arm and tickled her senses. It frightened her, the way she was memorizing him in ways that were, in her opinion, far too intimate: She recognized his presence even though she had not clearly seen his features or heard his voice.

The door slammed shut behind them, and she quickly moved far away from him, though she knew it was a futile attempt if he, indeed, wanted to corner her. He was an awful lot taller, and her previous experiences with him had proved she could not outrun him, but she was not going to give up without a fight. After all, she still had her wand, and she was itching to use it after hearing his demeaning comments about her. Adrenaline rushed through her veins, and her right hand clutched onto the wand hidden in a secret pocket in the gown.

He didn't bother lighting the candles. It had finally stopped snowing outside, and the moonlight shined merrily on the layers of snow outside, reflecting into the classroom and casting a heavenly, but at the same time, ghastly glow.

The formidable atmosphere around her pricked her senses, wrapping her in its clutches and nearly snatching away her breath—she felt suffocated, and it irritated her that it was because of Tom Marvolo Riddle  ** _again_**.

"What do you want?" she asked, more snappishly than she had intended.

He did not answer her. In fact, he just continued staring at her coldly as if he wanted to rip her to pieces. Taking a deep breath and very much annoyed, she strode towards the classroom door. Before she could place her hand on the doorknob, however, he grabbed her by the arm and pulled her to the middle of the classroom.

She yelped again, but his grip only strengthened.

"Let go of me," she growled, struggling against his hold. She could barely withstand the urge to draw the wand, do what her remaining logical cells in her brain were warning her not to do, and curse him all the way back to Salazar Slytherin's time.

Surprisingly, he released her. However, she soon found out why: When she ran to the door again and attempted to turn the doorknob, she found that it was locked. After several futile attempts at trying to unlock the door, she glared at it, almost wishing that that would burn the door down and let her out.

He laughed, so light it could've been her imagination, but she knew it was not. Gooseflesh erupted across her arm. Her hand was still extended in front of her on the doorknob, and she wished that the door would somehow miraculously open.

"A rather ... interesting choice," he commented, his voice even lighter than his laugh. "Joseph Potter, hm?"

She frowned slightly, more at his tone of voice than anything else. Draco's words rang in her ears again, but she quickly stuffed them away. It still sounded too ... impossible to be true.

"I suppose it could be considered a wise choice, since he does come from such a ...  ** _prominent_** family," he continued.

She whirled around and glared at him, although she could not see his features clearly. He was sitting on top of one of the desks in the room with his back towards the source of light. He could have easily been mistaken as a shadow in the dark.

He nodded. "True, 'Granger' hardly sounds like a pure-blood surname, which means that you're at best a half-blood, something which is not undesirable, but hardly better off than a lower class pure-blood. And who's to say that you're not Muggle-born?"

Although she couldn't see it, she could distinctly hear the sneer in his condescending voice. After all, although she did argue for Muggle-borns in Muggle Studies, she never indicated her heritage.

"And being a witch, I'd imagine that you wouldn't move up the social ladder quickly enough to your liking."

She opened and closed her mouth a couple of times. How dare he, Lord "Pure-Bloods Are Better Than Everyone So Bow To Me Since I'm A Half-Blood," accuse  ** _her_** of something like that? Especially right to her face? The nerve of that unbelievable bigot!

"This is ridiculous!" she exclaimed, anger painting her cheeks rouge. "I would never, ever base a person because of their blood, nor would I care!"

"I'm  ** _sure_**  you don't care about blood," he chuckled humorlessly, disbelief apparent from his tone of voice. "It is obvious to anyone with a working mind that you picked Potter because of that."

" ** _What_** _?_  I would never do something like that! Choosing someone based on their blood ... that's just vile, stupid, idiotic—" She stopped in her rant and took a deep breath, fury blinding her as well as her senses. "Why would  _you_  care about who I go to Slughorn's party with anyway?"

"Perhaps I've overstepped the boundaries. My apologies," Tom said coldly. "After all, it really  _is_ none of my business, but as the Head Boy, I see it as my  _duty_  to warn those who are in danger of _toppling_  over their own feet."

She bristled, and without further thinking, she pulled out her wand and cast the first hex that came to mind. She watched with satisfaction at the look of surprise that flashed through his face. He quickly extended his wand and banished the bat bogeys, but not before getting scratches on his right cheek and his hair ruffled.

Seeing the future Dark Lord in the state he was in caused her to smile, but it was quickly wiped off her face when he moved in front of her again and pushed her against the door, trapping her not only mentally, but physically.

His eyes shined dangerously in the dark, and they looked even more sinister with blood trailing down his face. However, she did not care for those ominous signs at the moment. Although she did have a good laugh after the Bat Bogey Hex she had thrown at him, she was still very much incensed.

"Let go of me," she hissed, saying each word with emphasis. When he merely strengthened his hold on her, she narrowed her eyes at him. "For your information,  ** _Riddle_** , it's none of your bloody business who I go to Slughorn's party with, duty or not. The way you are acting right now, if I hadn't known better, I would've thought that you were  ** _jealous_**."

Although she did not take Draco's words seriously at all, it was still something she could easily taunt him with. She should consider thanking Draco for giving her something to laugh at Tom Riddle about.

However, the coldness in Tom's laughter that followed her words cut off her train of thought and wrapped around her, causing her to shiver.

"Jealous? Why would I be jealous?"

In her usual state of mind, Hermione would have probably detected how dangerous he sounded at the moment, but she just  _did not care_. The scene playing out right now reminded her so much of a certain Yule Ball during her fourth year that she decided that it was a perfect way to get even with Tom's earlier comments.

"It's simple, isn't it?" She crossed her arms over her chest and smiled mockingly. "Just because **_you're_**  afraid to take me to the party, it doesn't mean that others will be. Besides, even if you were **_brave_**  enough to take me, who said that I  ** _wanted_**  to go with you?" She snorted disparagingly to enhance the effect.

He did not answer her. Minutes passed, but she hardly calmed down at all. In fact, the pause only caused her to feel even more restless. She tapped her feet on the floor, waiting for him to respond or at least  ** _move away_**  so that she could get out of the room.

"Are you daring me?" he finally asked, his voice overly quiet and kind. It was almost like a sweet venom, washing over and seeping into her, warming and claiming its hold on her before slowly taking her life away.

It was her turn to remain quiet, and alarmed, her eyes flickered over to his. For the first time that night, her heart skipped a beat. Subconsciously, her hand started groping behind her, trying to find the knob. However, before she could turn it to check if it were open, he grabbed her wrist and pulled her towards him.

"Let  ** _go_** of me!" she yelled despite of her fear as she pushed at him with her free hand.

"Are you daring me, Hermione?"

His tone of voice frightened her, reminding her of some kind of wild beast that was waiting in the dark shadows of the forest to pounce on its victim. She froze in her actions, almost afraid that a single move would only encourage him to take action.

"And why would I do something like that?" she asked timidly, almost as if she wished the floor would suddenly swallow her up.

"No?" he inquired, raising an eyebrow at her declaration. "It certainly sounded like a letter of challenge to me."

She had no idea what the reason was, but he always had a way to push her buttons the wrong way and make her react in ways that set the danger alarms off in her mind. His words worked like a match, setting her anger back onto full force and pushing out all thoughts of fear and caution.

If he thought he was the only one capable of mockery, he was in for a surprise.

"Well, you're just being delusional, aren't you? Not to mention ridiculously cynical," she assessed with a nod of her head. "Why do you always think that the whole world is conspiring against you?"

"The real question should be: why do you think you know so much about me when it is obvious that we haven't known one another for so long?" he hissed.

His words alarmed her, bringing back memories of what happened back in the Potions classroom during her detention.

"You're thinking too much," she replied, averting her eyes.

He grabbed her chin with more force than necessary, causing her to wince, and forced her to look at him.

"Try a different phrase next time, Granger," he sneered. "I've been hearing that quite a lot since the first day you stepped into this school."

"Oh, so now you're going to tell me which phrase I'm allowed to use and which ones I'm not allowed? Funny, Riddle, very, very funny. Just one catch: I'm not amused," she said, a sneer appearing on her face, too.

"Naturally, since I'm not Potter," he spat out.

"It's  ** _none_**  of your business, Riddle," she growled, her eyes burning with anger.

"Are you trying to make me jealous by strutting around the school with Potter?" he narrowed his eyes. "Because it's not working."

"And I thought you were creative," she jeered. "At least think up some of your  ** _own_**  arguments."

"Don't try to change the subject, Granger."

"Pray tell, why would I try to make  ** _you_**  jealous?" she asked, giving a short, humorless laugh and intentionally saying "you" in a condescending manner.

"Because you're the one who's trying to escape. You're the one who's afraid.  ** _Because_** ," he said, "you are afraid to acknowledge your feelings."

"I?" she asked, outraged. " ** _I_** am afraid of acknowledging my feelings?" She narrowed her eyes and spat out, "I'm a Gryffindor,  ** _Riddle_**."

Tom placed his one hand on the wall behind her and leaned closer to her. She took a step backwards, trying to keep the distance between them, but to no avail; he moved another step towards her and closed the gap.

"I've always thought that the House values were overestimated." He tilted his head to one side.

She snorted again. "I wasn't the one who was afraid to go to the Slughorn party with you. If you would've stayed out of my business in the first place, Riddle, we wouldn't've gotten into this situation at all," she sneered. "Or did you actually think that not going to the party with me was some kind of punishment to me?" He paused, and for that moment, Hermione almost grinned, thinking she had won a victory over him. "You're really up to your head with your ego, Riddle. What makes you  ** _think_**  that I would be attracted to someone like you?"

She placed her hand on his chest in an attempt to push him away, but he wouldn't budge.

She wanted to get out of the classroom, but she could not do that without him moving away from her first. He had boxed her in against the wall, and he did not seem to have any intention of letting her leave any time soon. In fact, he leaned even closer to her.

"When you were making those ... inquiries," he finally spoke, his voice like the breeze before the thunderstorm, "have you ever asked yourself beforehand?" He released her wrist and caught a lock of her hair, curling it around his finger. "Why would I be attracted to you, Hermione?"

He released the hair and allowed his finger to travel down her cheek. She drew in a breath, and her eyes darted from his eyes to his mouth. She mentally chided herself for imagining the different things she wanted those lips to do to her before she forced herself to concentrate on his words and not his wandering hand.

"Well, that's an easy enough question to answer, isn't it? If you weren't, you wouldn't be noticing every little action I do now, would you?"

He suddenly laughed. The laugh was so gentle, brushing over her senses and almost tricking her to a sense of security.

Instead of answering her question, he whispered, "Nobody challenges me, Hermione."

She snapped out of the lull she was in and snorted.

"Well, that's news to me," she sassed half-heartedly, trying to ignore how his fingers brushed against her jawline and down her neck.

"I accept your challenge, Hermione," he said. "But the real question is—" he smiled, "—are  ** _you_** ready to face the challenge yourself?"

Her eyes flashed dangerously as she narrowed them at him. Was he calling her a coward?

"I am not afraid," she hissed. "But I doubt that you could say the same."

Grabbing a hold of his tie, she pulled on it, brought his face over, and gave him a hard kiss on the lips before pushing him away.

"See?" she said loudly, not noticing the strange expression on his face and ignoring how her cheeks got even warmer now, "I told you I'm not attracted to you. Why would I be? And tha—"

Before Hermione could finish what she wanted to say, she was silenced.

His lips met with hers, taking her by surprise, before he moved away again. It was a gentle kiss, but the way he was looking at her, the intensity in his eyes while they flickered between her eyes and her lips ...

Explosions went off in her mind, and she could not possibly think of anything else. The initial shock that came with the fact that Tom Riddle kissed her back, regardless of the reason behind the action, soon subsided, and her mind apprehended a strange sense of loss. A small voice in the back of her head nagged at her, telling her something that embarrassed her thoroughly should anyone ever find out about it—she wanted more. She  ** _needed_**  more. It was like she had been waiting for this moment.

And, as if he had read her mind, he complied. Flicking his wrist, he undid the magic that was holding her hair up, and her curls cascaded down her back and onto her shoulders, tickling the bare skin there. His fingers disappeared into her locks and rested on the back of her head, deepening their kiss while his other arm slipped around her waist, pulling her closer to him.

There was nothing she could do but follow his lead. She was lost in their all-consuming kiss, and she did not want to find her way out any longer. It felt sinfully right to be in his arms. It felt like ... she  ** _belonged_**  there.

"Tom!" they suddenly heard someone calling out in the hallways, pulling them back to their senses.

They broke apart, panting slightly and staring deeply into one another's eyes.

"Where are you, Tom?" the voice called again, and Hermione recognized it as Iris's.

A sense of possessiveness washed over her; she  ** _did not_**  want him to go back to the party with that cow. Without saying anything and with another soft tug, she closed the distance between the two of them once again.

Minutes passed, and soon, they could no longer hear the high-pitched voice of Iris Parkinson calling out his name, but they still did not break apart.

It was as if they were releasing their pent up frustration on one another, and Hermione could barely resist smirking the moment a growl escaped his mouth when she ran her hands down his chest. Teasingly, she pressed her body towards his and pushed him backwards. The back of his legs crashed into a table, and he ended up sitting on it with Hermione half-lying on top of him, still kissing him thoroughly.

His hand traveled down the side of her body, causing her to moan into his mouth. He stopped on her hips, lingering there, making her yearn for more and causing her heart to speed up in anticipation.

They both gasped for breaths when they finally broke apart, the world still swirling around her. Tom gazed at her, and she felt herself falling into his bottomless eyes once more. It was so, so,  ** _so_** wrong, yet it felt so right.

To Hermione, romance novels had always been overexaggerated and given too much credit. Honestly, how could one feel safe and satisfied by simply being in the arms of someone? And their minds drawing blanks when they share a passionate kiss with a guy? It was simply a fairytale to her, and she was not going to join  ** _that_**  cult any time soon. No one could actually blame her, though, since she had never gotten that feeling when Ron hugged and kissed her. Honestly, most of the time, it was more like  ** _she_**  was protecting  ** _him_**  and giving  ** _him_**  the sense of security.

Now, however ...

She frowned and ran her fingertips over her lips, which were still tingling as the one single logical cell in her brain kicked back into action. No matter what the reason was, she should not be wishing that he would kiss her again. Before she could move away from him, however, he seemed to have read her mind and pulled her closer again, closing the distance.

She shouldn't. She really, really shouldn't, but instead of pushing him away, she shyly placed her arms around his neck, trying to eliminate any gaps between them. It was obvious that he had much more experience than she, but now was not the time to fuss about that fact yet. She was much too caught up with their kiss. She ran her hand through his hair, satisfied that she finally got her wish at last. It was just as voluminous and soft as she had thought.

When they finally parted again, she opened her eyes slowly and blinked, the solitary cell of logic blasted into smithereens.

"Yes, I can see that you don't find me attractive at all," he said. It seemed as if he were trying to act casual about their situation, but the effect was greatly diminished by the confusion. Apparently, he was just as unsettled by the kiss as Hermione was.

His words brought back the memory of why they were standing in a deserted classroom in the first place and pricked Hermione on a nerve.

"Well, yes. I'm sure you don't find  ** _me_**  to your liking either," she scoffed. Tilting her head a bit higher, she stared down her nose at him. "Besides, I  ** _obviously_**  want to move up the, quote unquote, ' ** _social ladder_** ' quickly enough, so I have to hide away my emotions," she added sarcastically, fury flashing through her eyes once again.

"Hm ..." he said, feigning thoughtfulness, "so you're admitting that you do have emotions for me?"

She opened and closed her mouth a couple of times before snapping her jaws shut. "You wish, Riddle."

"Doesn't seem too much like it from your enthusiastic reactions."

She growled deep in her throat, very much annoyed at him. He laughed at her reaction, a little too delightfully in her opinion.

"In your  ** _dreams_**. It's not as if I'm Iris or one of your other little admirers," she huffed, turning her head to one side.

He remained quiet, and Hermione had no idea what he was thinking about at the moment, which she knew he was doing. She was slowly learning that the impassiveness was a way to cover up the many thoughts going through his head.

Quite suddenly, he laughed, and his eyes lit up.

"You're jealous," he commented.

"I am not," she denied immediately, moving off him and straightening out her skirt. "Why would I be?"

"There aren't any other reasons for you to act this way," he replied, leaning closer to her and allowing the moonlight to illuminate his features. Oh, he was definitely delighted. "You  ** _are_**  jealous."

"Hallucinations," she huffed, crossing her arms over her chest as if it acted as some sort of shield, and turned her head further to one side than before. With some difficulty, she attempted to ignore her burning cheeks and how his eyes glittered all too merrily. "I was just curious why you're still alive after going into the girls' dormitory. Since it's for  ** _Slytherins_** , I would assume that there would be curses and hexes that would fry the intruder, rather than just letting them slide down the stairs."

"I'm sure," he murmured, raising his hand and letting it get tangled in her hair again. "I'm so honored to have you ... worrying about me."

She glanced at him from the corner of her eye.

"Well, then, since you care about the rumors so much," he said tauntingly after playing with her hair for a while, "let's just say that I was in the school library that day. So, I would first have to know how to split myself into two pieces to be in her room at the same time."

 _But you already know how to split yourself into two pieces_ , a small voice answered him in her mind.

She suddenly froze, reality crashing down on her.

What was she doing?  _What was she doing?_

How could she stay here and snog the future Dark Lord? How could she do this to Harry? It was wrong, completely wrong. And to question Tom Marvolo Riddle about his actions ... was she  ** _mental_**?

She had to be. She absolutely, positively had to be. Because even while she looked at him right now, she couldn't bring herself to fully regret what she had done.

She released her hold on his tie, her arm falling to her side. Harry was going to kill her ... or worse yet, he was going to be disappointed in her. And with what was going on between her and Tom ... it was not going to work out. What was she—

That was the most infuriating and embarrassing part of this whole fiasco— _she wasn't thinking_. The pain that Harry would go through when he found out what she had done ...

She felt like groaning out of frustration.

Her expression must have been stranger than she thought it was since Tom was staring at her curiously now. As she stared into his eyes, she recalled the fact that he would ultimately be killed.

_Not that I really care about his well-being ... No, I don't care ... really ..._

Oh, who was she kidding? She unconsciously always noticed the things that he did, the words that he said, and the expressions that appeared on his face. Admittedly, it was stupid, sick, and wrong, and she did try to ignore him, but it just didn't work.

Was Alphard right? Did she start fancying him long before what happened right now?

She looked away, and her forehead creased into a frown again.

But he was Lord Voldemort. His existence would only bring sorrow to others. She shouldn't. She really shouldn't be so ...  ** _attracted_**  to him. She shouldn't be here in a deserted classroom, standing there and waiting for him to kiss her once more.

"Thinking about your," he spoke up, a mocking glint in his eyes, "boyfriend?"

She froze again, fully acknowledging what she had done to Ron.

Merlin's pants,  _she cheated on Ron_.

It did not matter that it was in a different time period and that Ron would never find out about it. It was something that would be on her conscious for the rest of her life because she just could not believe she would do something like this to hurt him. It was wrong, and when it was with Lord Voldemort ...

He slid off the table and stopped in front of her, his gaze never straying from her face.

"Did it ever occur to you that perhaps you don't love him as much as you think you do?" he asked.

She glanced back at him and found herself mesmerized by his eyes, which were darker than usual.

And as he leaned in to kiss her again, she knew that she was in trouble—because she just could not find it in her to push him away.

~-0-~

Hermione Granger no longer knew if she should worry more about the fact that Tom and her never made it back to Slughorn's party, which was bound to become the hottest gossip by tomorrow morning, or the vindictive pleasure she felt when Joseph told her about Iris being all teary eyed for the rest of the evening.

She could tell that Joseph was suspicious about what happened to her after she left the party, but she wasn't about to tell him that she spent most of that time snogging Tom Riddle in an abandoned classroom.

"I had stomach pains ... I was going to Madam Pomfrey's and got distracted," she had lied, looking off to the side and hoping that her discomfort was not as conspicuous as she thought it was.

Joseph gazed at her suspiciously and was probably going to ask her questions about the cause of her "distraction," but after giving him a random excuse, she escaped into the girls' dormitory, more than relieved to find it nearly empty. Most of the girls were still in the common room chatting, and Adriana Scrimgeour, having taken a potion for the headache that had been bothering her for the whole day, was sound asleep on the other side of the room.

Hermione plopped onto her bed with a sigh.

She was confused. No ... that wasn't right. She wanted to be confused. Although the rational side of her shunned Tom’s sinful deeds, another part of her was strongly attracted to the intelligent, charismatic side of him.

It was, at most, a  ** _very_**  unhealthy obsession—yes, she was merely ...  ** _fascinated_**  that she'd finally met someone who was so intellectually similar to her. As much as she complained to others about their debates in Potions, she had to admit that she secretly anticipated those moments. She loved how she could have an intelligent being to speak with, let alone debate with. It made her feel alive that there was someone her own age who could appreciate her thirst for knowledge, instead of forcing her to feel like she was wasting her time—not that Ron and Harry had succeeded in the long run, but it was aggravating at times.

But ... regardless of the reasons, her actions were completely wrong and ... well ... wrong. There was no other word for it. She should be sentenced to Azkaban for life.

A sharp tapping coming from the window disrupted the silence, causing Adriana to mumble something about “stupid policies” in her sleep as Hermione shuffled over to let the owl in. She gave the owl some bits of cookies from the supply she had left over from Hogsmeade and watched it fly out the window before she opened the letter.

_Dear Hermione,_

_Hope things are alright back at Hogwarts. You won't believe this, but the Healer in charge of Ginny's injuries said that Ginny will be waking up any moment! That means we could come back to Hogwarts soon!_

Hermione closed her eyes and opened them again. Half of her mind was thankful that Ginny was finally about to wake up. The other half, however ... she really did not anticipate the drama that would occur once Harry and Ginny were back in Hogwarts.

Her hands on the letter tightened, and her frown deepened. She did not have an explanation for the two of them if they were to find out about her snogging session with Tom Riddle, and neither did she know how to explain to them. Shaking her head and heaving a sigh, she looked back to the letter in her hand.

_I got your last letter, by the way. So Dumbledore went all the way to Germany to find Feierabend? I hope Dumbledore can find him soon and that he will have solutions to our problem. I can't wait to return home. Then, we won't have to worry about Riddle any longer._

Which meant she would never get to see Tom anymore. Her stomach churned at that thought. She took a deep breath and tried to see things from a brighter perspective.

Once she returned to the future, all her problems would be solved. She could pretend that nothing happened at all. Despite the guilt she would feel towards Ron, she did not have to tell him what happened. She wouldn't have to worry about her obsession with Tom Riddle anymore and could keep her concentration on Ron and her relationship.

_I hope things are working out with ferret boy. He'll never be NOT annoying, of course, but let's hope that he'll be less so. Remember to keep me updated about what happens back there._

_Harry_

Yes, she should definitely inform him about the ... er ... interaction between Tom Marvolo Riddle and her. She was so sure Harry would be so very thrilled about that.

Throwing the letter into her trunk, she slammed the lid shut (causing Adriana to stir in her sleep again), jumped into her bed, pulled her blanket over her head, and closed her eyes. She would have to reply to Harry later; she still had to figure out how to face a certain Slytherin Head Boy in their next encounter.

~-0-~

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Huge thanks to my betas, LSMerlot and Nerys.


	22. Chapter 22

**Chapter 22**

As Hermione had predicted, throughout the entire weekend, curious gazes were shot her way wherever she went, and whispered discussion would promptly commence whenever her back was turned. In fact, she could no longer call the library a safe haven, for the younger female students who were on the kinder end of the spectrum would follow her around with their eyes aglow with pure admiration.

It was, after all, not every day that the admired Head Boy of Hogwarts fell in love—and with a Gryffindor, no less!

At least, that was what the rest of the school believed. The idea of Lord Voldemort "in love" with her was as hilarious as it was ridiculous to her, and she was sure Tom felt the same way.

She had to admit that the rumors did give her an advantage. It was rather funny watching Abraxas Malfoy run the other way when she so much as raised her eyebrows at him, no doubt in fear that his Lord would give him a torture session for "miffing his girlfriend." Although, she was curious in regards to why Tom did not explain things to his Knights. Perhaps he was too busy teaching them how to become world-class idiots?

Mealtimes were a horror to go through since nearly the entire school was there. Therefore, she would quickly stuff food down her throat before escaping back to her dorm. Of course, she would then be bombarded with questions by Lilian Brown and Adriana Scrimgeour, who suddenly decided to become her "best friends" after finding out that she disappeared for the rest of Friday evening with Tom.

Throughout the whole weekend, however, Hermione had not caught sight of the young man in question.

By Monday morning, Hermione was ready to hide in the Room of Requirement until things started to settle down a bit more. However, she knew that hiding in the dorm would only feed towards the rumor mill. Not desirable at all.

Fortunately, it was the last week of classes before the holidays. Therefore, despite how heavy her feet felt, she dragged herself to the Charms classroom. The attention that followed her throughout the hallway did not make her feel any easier at all. Taking a deep breath, she pushed the door open and entered the room. Iris was sitting in her usual seat, talking to one of her friends with puffy and red eyes, undoubtedly complaining about Tom's "lack of tastes."

A fleeting grin appeared on Hermione's face despite her attempt to hold it back, and she found it hard to wipe it off. Iris lifted her eyes and narrowed them at Hermione's cheery expression. The brief interaction worked like a trigger, causing Hermione’s expression to transform into a condescending sneer. Anger blossomed on Iris's face, and she probably would have pulled out her wand already if her attention were not caught by something else behind Hermione.

"Good morning, Hermione." Tom's breath tickled Hermione's earlobe as his softly spoken words wrapped around her, indicating just how close he was to her. Her body tensed up, and she felt her cheeks turn warm again even though he had not so much as touched her. "Planning to prevent innocent students from entering the classroom?"

Swiftly recomposing herself, she let out a short and mocking laugh.

"I daresay, 'Slytherins' can hardly be classified as 'innocent,' " she retorted, hoping her voice did not give away just how much he affected her. She stepped inside without so much as glancing at him, and the light sounds of his chuckles followed her all the way to her seat.

"Hello," Gareth greeted her as she sat down.

Both his and Joseph's eyes traveled between her and Tom as they sat down after she replied with a "Good morning," and she did her best to ignore them. It was, however, a lot harder to pretend that they were not there when they started whispering between themselves, no doubt speculating about the relationship between Tom and her.

She suddenly froze when she felt someone's hand slither into her bushy locks, entangling with them. Tickling sensations traveled down her spine from her hair brushing against her neck as she noticed the Slytherin girls staring in jealousy at the scene and shooting glares of hatred towards her. If looks could kill, she would have died, her corpse resembling that of a poisoned porcupine by now.

She swung her head around and narrowed her eyes at the culprit.

"What are you doing?" she whispered furiously at Tom, ignoring the ogling duo beside her.

"How curious. It's almost like petting a lioness," he commented, neglecting her question altogether.

"You're going to get me killed," she said.

The words left her lips before she contemplated on the possibility of that being the purpose.

His hand disentangled itself and slid over her neck until he was cupping her cheek, and she distinctly heard sharp draws of breath from the front of the room.

Oh dear.

"Why would I do something like that?" he asked, gazing at her like the only thing that mattered in the world was the young lady in front of him.

Hermione nearly shivered from the gooseflesh that erupted across her skin from the expression of adoration on his face. She was positive that Lord Voldemort was not the type that would become all lovey-dovey because of a simple ... well, not-too-simple of a kiss, but it was definitely not enough to make him fawn over her. Additionally, that intense way with which he was staring at her right now contrasted too greatly with the wicked glint that passed through his eyes when she first turned around to look at him.

Pushing herself away from the chair, she leaned slightly towards him despite knowing that it might give the girls something else to hate her about, but she did not want Gareth and Joseph to hear her conversation with Tom: It would undoubtedly become the next gossip in the Gryffindor common room.

"You're doing this on purpose," she hissed at him, taking a leaf out of the Slytherin girls' books and giving him a glare of death.

"Oh?" he simply replied, tilting his head to one side and an expression of interest plastered across his features.

"If you think that I would believe in your ‘Oh, I am so in love’ act, then you are horribly mistaken," she whispered. "You're doing this because you still don't believe that the four of us came from Durmstrang."

Amusement replaced the interest on his face, and his hand resumed playing with her hair. An exasperated sigh nearly left her lips when she realized what a sticky situation she was in. If she pushed him away (and consequently "hurt his feelings"), she would undoubtedly be murdered on the spot. However, she knew she would not fare any better by letting him continue.

"So presumptuous," he answered, shaking his head in mock disappointment. Just when she thought he was going to deny it, he added, "But not completely incorrect."

He did not elaborate, leaving the rest up to Hermione's imagination. Her eyes flickered over to his cheek, the skin of which no longer had the scratch from the Bat Bogey Hex she had thrown at him.

"You can't tell me," she said slowly, "that you're still holding a grudge because of a stupid little scratch."

Approval appeared on his face as he twirled a few strands around his index finger. "It's so nice to have someone with a quick mind. At least I don't have to put up with the ignorance that's present in most people."

If she had not been all over him on Friday night, she would have been very suspicious about his gender by now. Blokes usually did not fuss over tiny things and plot out revenges because of injuries to their faces. Hell, even Draco did not take any actions towards her when she punched him in the nose.

Then again ... she had never heard about Lord Voldemort getting married or having children. Additionally, most of his Death Eaters were male, so could it be just purely to eliminate possible competition for attention?

It could be possible that he was parading around as a male simply because he was not filled out in the right ...

_Stop right there, Hermione!_

Shaking her head to clear it up a bit and to get rid of the shivers running up her spine, she glanced at him, realizing that he was studying her face.

"I want to make it clear once and for all, Hermione," he finally spoke, his lips barely moving and his voice so low that she was sure that Joseph and Gareth could not hear them even if they had tried. "Do not think that I will forget things. I will  ** _always_**  retrieve what is rightfully mine, whether they're objects ..."

His hand slid down her arm.

"... retribution ..."

His fingers entwined with hers and brought her hands up to his face.

"... or witches."

She tried as best as she could to stay calm and casual as if her hand were not currently being held by the most desired man in Hogwarts, but it was easier said than done. She could not help the little leaps that her heart was making when he sent a smile her way. She could not help feeling worried and excited at the same time, knowing how the rest of the class had their eyes on them.

"Therefore," he whispered, his dark eyes trained on hers, "to prevent you from making more ... mistakes, let's set the rules right from the beginning with a minor lesson, shall we?"

She remained still, irritation at his quiet, commanding tone quickly building up inside of her. Before she could express her emotions with a sarcastic comment, he spoke.

"Good luck for the rest of the week." A fleeting smirk appeared on his face before he brought his lips in contact with the bare skin on the back of her hand.

As Iris burst out of the room with strangled sobs, the feeling of joy that Hermione would have experienced was greatly diminished by the increase in intensity of the glares from the front of the room.

She was doomed.

~-0-~

It did not take too long for her premonition to come true. During Transfiguration, she had had to duck away from no less than five different hexes, all of which went unnoticed by the substitute teacher, Professor Dimmock. Tom glanced at her from the corner of his eye every once in a while with an amused smirk lingering on his lips, offering her no help whatsoever.

Not that she thought that he would, and she would honestly think that he was possessed if he did.

She was, however, not so lucky at the end of the class. As she walked towards the exit of the classroom, amid a flurry of gasps, an ice-cold feeling enveloped her. Before she could comprehend what exactly was happening, her vision was blurred, and a curtain of water appeared in front of her. Quickly, her robes started to weigh down on her shoulders, clinging onto the clothes she had underneath.

She first thought that someone had simply cast the Aguamenti Charm over her. A few seconds later, she realized that the free shower was not going to end.

There was a  ** _cloud_**  over her head. Literally.

Most of the class stopped in their movements and stared in surprise at the spectacle in front of them. Gareth and Joseph stood there with their mouths wide open. Draco's eyebrows were nearly touching his hairline while Augusta stuffed her fist into her mouth to prevent the professor from hearing her laughter. The Slytherins were not so discrete. Many of them were simply roaring with laughter, especially the girls. Tom was staring at the area above her head with interest. His eyes met with Hermione's for a brief second, and she could swear that a glint of amusement made its way into his gaze before impassiveness slid over his features once more.

Needless to say, Dimmock, being nearly as helpful as Lockhart when it came to handling classroom situations, wrung his hands together while ogling from student to student, as if he hoped that one of them would help him control the situation.

"Right ... who ... who did this?" Dimmock asked.

If Hermione were not busy casting the Impervius Charm over her books and bags, she would have rolled her eyes. Honestly, as if the person who had done this would have the nerve to own up to it.

She gnawed at the inside of her cheek when she realized that for some reason, the Charm was not working: The rain continued to drench her properties.

"Someone should get Madam Pomfrey," Draco finally spoke up, his eyebrows knitted into a frown.

"Right ... excellent suggestion, Mr. Malloy. Um ... Mr. Potter, can you get the school nurse for us, please?" the substitute professor stuttered, not taking his eyes off the cloud hovering above Hermione.

Suddenly, a minor shock went through Hermione's body, and she nearly collapsed onto the floor. Lilian promptly shrieked out of fear from the front of the room.

"Er ... that's a thunderstorm over your head, Hermione," Gareth carefully informed her, taking care to stay a good five feet away.

"I think I would have realized that," she replied through gritted teeth, her body slightly shaking from the cold and the shock.

One by one, the students reluctantly left the classroom to go to the Great Hall for lunch after Dimmock shooed them out until only Tom, Iris, Gareth, Draco, and Alphard were left. Hermione assumed that Tom stayed behind to express his "care," and Iris ... well, it was pretty obvious that she stuck around to hang onto Tom and to laugh at Hermione.

By the time Joseph came back with Madam Pomfrey, Hermione had already suffered a total of three electrical shocks. Thankfully, none of them were enough to kill her.

"Well, I probably should have guessed that it would be you, Miss Granger," Madam Pomfrey sighed.

Unfortunately, after swishing and flicking her wand a couple of times, Madam Pomfrey was still unable to make the cloud disappear. Gareth Transfigured one of the chairs into an umbrella, and though doubtful that it would keep the rain out, Hermione held it over her head. To her relief, it actually worked. Apparently, the rain only penetrated through charms and spells.

"At least the rain seems a bit smaller," Joseph attempted to comfort her, sitting down in one of the chairs.

"Yeah, and there isn't any more lightning," Gareth added, still staring curiously at the cloud.

"Hopefully," she muttered, glaring upwards as though she could see the cloud through the umbrella.

"You will be able to get rid of it, won't you, Madam Pomfrey?" Tom asked, his voice laced with concern.

Oh, she was quite sure he was worried—worried that she would not get enough of a "punishment" for her "impudence."

"I'll try, Tom," Madam Pomfrey replied, her eyebrows furrowed in frustration. "I'll discuss this with Professor Fireswish and Professor Merrythought later. They do have more experience in this field than I do." She looked at Hermione sympathetically. "We'll find a solution to this, dear. Don't you worry about it."

"Thank you, Madam Pomfrey," Hermione replied in a small voice, her eyes still on the curtain of rain surrounding her.

She was pretty sure that Madam Pomfrey would find the solution in the end, but unfortunately, she doubted that that would happen any time soon.

~-0-~

After a couple of days, although there was still a cloud hanging above Hermione's head, the shower slowed down to a drizzle, and there was no longer lightning zapping her. The amount of giggling she had to endure was also decreasing since the hex had evolved from "funny" to "annoying." Students often had to duck away in order to avoid getting wet whenever Hermione walked past them. The professors had made it a habit to conjure a bucket underneath her while she attended their classes. Hogan was thoroughly infuriated when he first saw the trails of water she left behind wherever she went and would have thrown her in detention if he had not considered the mess that would undoubtedly cause in his office.

The worst thing that happened to her was that Madam Pince had banned her from the library.

"Until they find a way to get rid of that dreadful cloud, you're not getting anywhere near the books," the librarian said sternly, standing protectively in front of the library doors.

Thankfully, the house-elves had been informed about Hermione’s "little problem" and had done something to her bed to prevent it from becoming a swimming pool throughout the course of the night. Knowing that the witches and wizards of those days most likely underestimated the magic of house-elves, she had cornered one at night and questioned it if there were some way to get rid of the cloud. Unfortunately, they could not come up with a solution to it.

On Thursday, she took a few textbooks and sat under the tree by the lake, a place that had become a common hideout for her ever since she was hexed.

At least there would be extra irrigation for the tree, and there was no one to make her go away.

She was so absorbed into what she was reading that she did not notice when someone took a seat next to her until he spoke.

"Rereading the textbooks again?" Tom asked, leaning with his back against the tree and tilting his head slightly upwards so that he could look at the skies.

She picked up her head and gave him a mere glance before sticking her nose back into the textbook.

"You never know if you've missed something during the first couple of readings," she replied as courteously as she could while she flipped the page.

Although she was still holding a grudge against him for causing her predicament, she decided that waging war was probably not the best action to make at the moment. She was a Gryffindor, but she most certainly was not stupid or suicidal.

"They haven't found a way to get rid of the cloud, I see," he commented, amusement evident in his tone of voice.

"No," she answered curtly.

Well, that was rather apparent, she would think. If they had found a way to get rid of the rain, the cloud would not still be floating—

Just wait a second there.

She whipped her head around and stared at him.

He had to be kidding her. However, the leisurely way by which he was gazing back at her, the casual upward tilt of his eyebrow, and the smirk at the corner of his lips told her otherwise.

"You can't tell me ..."

He blinked innocently, way too innocently in her opinion, while the smile on his face widened.

As quickly as amazement filled her heart, it was replaced by annoyance. How was it possible that a seventeen-year-old knew how to get rid of the hex while the professors were poring through different texts to find the solution?

As Hermione gave out a sigh of exasperation, two Slytherin boys walked past them, giving Tom a slight nod of their head, and then, the answer hit her.

Of course. He was almost like the Slytherin deity—she nearly rolled her eyes at the term—so he could easily get the answer from the person who had cast the curse on her in the first place.

She snapped her eyes shut and leaned against the tree, disgruntled. If it were someone like Alphard who knew the counter-curse, she would have rejoiced on the spot. If it were Tom Marvolo Riddle, then it was obvious that she would not find out any time soon.

"Yes?" he purposely asked.

She slightly opened her eyes and gave him a dirty look before placing her attention on the lake. At least the Giant Squid was more compassionate than that ... that ... that slimey, disgusting, mental, psychotic earthworm!

Too bad the merpeople only dieted on seagrass, or she could probably do them a favor and send them lunch. Oh wait. They might get a stomachache later on. That would definitely come back to bite her in the arse considering the fact that she had to spend a good amount of time down there in the future.

The rain suddenly stopped, thoroughly surprising her. She found that the cloud was still hovering there above her head, but the small drizzle had stopped altogether. She turned her head, but before she could express her disbelief by gawking at Tom, his lips were already on hers.

Frantically, she wanted to see if there were anyone else around, but he would not allow her to. His hand was grasping her chin, forbidding her to turn her head, while he placed his other hand on the tree to support the weight of his upper body.

She honestly hated herself for giving in, but who was she to say “no” to a kiss from him?

A gentle sigh escaped her throat when he deepened their kiss and pulled her gently towards him. She was no longer leaning against the tree but in his arms, nearly sitting on his lap. She didn't care anymore if someone were watching. It did not concern her as long as he continued to kiss her like this, so she very nearly protested when he broke off the kiss.

He gave the cloud a quick glance.

"Just enough time," he whispered and pulled away, confusing her.

The confusion did not last for long since merely seconds after he moved away, the drizzle began **_again_**. Her mouth promptly dropped open.

"I do apologize. It appears that Druella did not get me the correct spell," he said. Any sympathy he was trying to convey through his words was completely diminished by that infuriating smirk of his.

She snapped her mouth shut and mentally counted to ten, weighing the pros and cons of retaliating right on the spot when a rather ... entertaining thought came to mind.

If he did not care about other students knowing about their peculiar relationship, why should she? It could not possibly get any worse than this, and she did go through Krum's more vicious admirers back in fourth year, although she made sure that Harry and Ron never found out about it. The two of them would have probably fretted too much for their own good, and Harry already had to worry about the Triwizard Tournament.

Plastering an understanding smile on her face, she gave him a nod.

"I'm sure." She inclined her head and sighed at the cloud. "I do really appreciate your help, even if it had not completely worked."

Nimbly, she pushed herself off the ground and quickly settled down on his lap.

Oh yes. He was most definitely in for a surprise, and if his expressions were anything to go by, she would say that he was thrown off by her actions.

"Therefore, I hope to show my appreciation," she said cheerfully.

Before he could react to her words, she launched herself on him and kissed him. A satisfied smile appeared on her face, knowing that simple Drying Spells would not help him. Even if the person who hexed her did know the counter-spell, it would still take some time for the precious Head Boy to find said person.

The joy of spreading her misery to Tom Marvolo Riddle. Although, he did not seem to mind the rain as his initial shock turned into something else, and he circled his arms around her waist and pulled her closer.

That was definitely killing two birds with one stone.

~-0-~

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **A/N:** Many thanks to my wonderful beta, LSMerlot.


	23. Chapter 23

**Chapter 23**

Much to Hermione's delight, there were no Drying Spells for the wet spots caused by her personal little thunderstorm. Of course, that caused an uproar among the Slytherin girls when a thoroughly wet Tom Marvolo Riddle appeared in the hallways of Hogwarts. The traps and assaults on Hermione naturally increased in number, but no longer was she going to sit around and take their trash. It was rather satisfying to her, as well as to most students, to see a shrieking Iris being rushed to the infirmary after Hermione's Itching Hex hit her. The curse differed from the Tickling Charm in that the victim would feel an itch right beneath their skin—in other words, they could not scratch or stop the itching.

The icing on the cake was when one of Tom's admirers decided to send a curse towards Hermione at the end of Herbology. She immediately scooted to the side, and the spell hit the Heir of Slytherin instead.

After a moment of stunned silence, Hermione promptly burst out laughing uncontrollably as daisies, ivies, and mushrooms started growing on Tom's head.

She definitely did not want to be in the caster's shoes; the silent fury on Tom's face was definitely bone chilling if she were not so immersed in laughter. She could only assume that the girl got what was coming for her since there was no sight of her the next day. Unfortunately, the tiny garden was also removed from Tom's head, causing Hermione to regret that she did not take a picture of her source of entertainment before it was taken away. She was sure Harry and Ginny would have found it hilarious, too.

Most of the students, including Gareth, Joseph, and Alphard, went home for Christmas break. Much to Hermione's relief, a good portion of the Slytherin girls also went home for the holidays.

Well, except for the incessant cow.

Truth be told, Hermione could care less about what Iris did as long as the latter did not try to kill her again.

 _Or stick around Tom_ , a little voice in her mind nagged her.

Her forehead creased into a frown as she glared at the book in her hands. There were ... more **_important_**  things to do than to think about these petty things. She should use the vacation to read through the contents of the Slytherin book from the library. With so many things happening in the past few days, she never had the chance to actually sit down and read it. Of course, having a raincloud directly above her head had also prevented her from reading the book without distraction.

Thank Merlin Madam Pomfrey and Professor Fireswish finally found the counter-curse.

She took a deep sigh and shifted to a more comfortable position on her bed as she turned to the first page of the essay by Mopsa Meadowes. She was still curious about what she might find in it, even though Tom had brushed it aside that day.

_Although the method by which it was accomplished still remains to be discovered, there are many evidences that point to the possibility of one of the Four Founders of Hogwarts still being alive. Throughout the years, there have been many sightings of Salazar Slytherin across the globe by different wizards and witches, which Ernest Night wrote about in_ Unexplained _._

_As I stated in my other essay,_ The Truth Behind the Fight Among the Four Founders of Hogwarts _, Salazar Slytherin had always been obsessed with the idea of living on forever._

Hermione raised her eyebrow. She would have to remember to check out the book and the essay later on.

" _It would give him a chance, for the eternity to come, to purge the school of those unworthy to learn magic" (Lewis, 3982). This theory is supported by the ceremony of books destruction (held by the three Founders who had stayed in Hogwarts), which occurred right after Slytherin left the premises of the school. Godric Gryffindor was especially appalled by the books that Slytherin had written and kept within Hogwarts. To Gryffindor, the usage of the Dark Magic Slytherin had created was immoral and cruel. "Legend has it that Slytherin had created versions of the Cruciatus and Killing Curse that made the original versions seem kind" (Morgan, 267). The only question would then be: why did Gryffindor allow Slytherin to travel far and wide searching for methods to live forever?_

_In the past, Slytherin was stated to have appeared in places such as China and Mexico. "Sometimes, he tricked the Chinese villagers into believing that he was a dragon or god from the skies, thus his differences in looks. It was his strategy to learn about the different legends that the Chinese held in regards to immortality" (Ning, 762). Slytherin was known to be extremely talented in wandless magic, something which Pascale LeBeau mentioned in his book_ Hypotheses About the Four Founders of Hogwarts _. Therefore, it would have been easy for him to trick the villagers (most of whom knew nothing about magic) into believing that he was some deity._

Suddenly, it occurred to Hermione that she had not seen some of the mentioned books in the library. She was  ** _positive_**  that she had not read the book in her hands right now. Even though she had not read through every single library book, theoretically speaking, she should have at least seen one of the mentioned texts.

Unless ... Tom paid more attention to this book than he had shown.

With that thought lingering at the back of her head, she continued to read and was very disappointed when she found nothing more interesting in the later pages. As she stretched out her limbs, she took a look at the clock and found that it was almost time for lunch. She placed the book back into her trunk and conjured a few wards around it just in case someone decided to take her stuff to play a practical joke on her.

The hallways were noticeably emptier with most of the students gone. Nevertheless, Peeves was still as cheery as usual, singing revised Christmas carols with dirty phrases in between lyrics at the top of his lungs. Other than that, the only other being she saw on her way to the Great Hall was a Hufflepuff girl who smiled hesitantly to her. Hermione gave her a weak smile in return. At least there were still a few people who acted civil towards her.

A hallway away from the Great Hall, someone suddenly grabbed her by her waist, causing her to shriek.

"Merlin, are you trying to break my eardrums now that you can no longer drench me in rain, Hermione?" Tom asked, quirking his eyebrow at her. She twisted her neck around and looked at him.

"What were you thinking, grabbing me like that?" she demanded, scanning the hallways for any signs of the group of Slytherin witches she had dubbed the "Screaming Banshees."

After all, every once in a while, one of them would entertain themselves by cornering her and bawling that she was an ugly hag who did not deserve Tom's love.

"You do realize that most of them have gone home for the holidays, don't you?" he asked, knowing what she was watching out for.

"Except for Iris, of course," Hermione replied as she struggled out of his arms, a blank expression on her face.

"Is that jealousy I hear, my dear?" he teased, running a finger down her cheek.

"Of course. Haven't you realized it already? I am so very jealous of the veela-like Slytherin princess. So I demand that you move out of the Slytherin dorm and into the kitchen right now," she answered dryly.

"Very amusing," he commented, his lips curving slightly upwards at her remark.

She responded by rolling her eyes to the ceiling before saying, "You haven't said what you are here for."

"Hm ... Why do I get this feeling that my presence isn't welcomed?" he questioned her, folding his arms across his chest.

"Oh, I don't know. Perhaps because you're  _thinking a bit too much_?" she replied in the same tone of voice as his, placing emphasis on the last few words.

He raised his eyebrow again, catching on to the fact that she was trying to annoy him.

"Really?" His forehead wrinkled slightly as if he were really thinking about her words deeply. "Then maybe I shall test just how much you ... enjoy my company."

Before she could react, he had already pulled her firmly into his arms, causing two very conflicting emotions to well up inside of her. On the one hand, her heart leapt at their close contact. On the other hand, she wanted to place some distance between them so that she could decide with a clear head about what she should do.

To deny her emotions any longer would be stupid, at least to Hermione. So, during the past few days, while she had been walking around with the damned cloud above her head, she had finally gathered enough courage to acknowledge the fact that she might, just  ** _might_** , have feelings for Tom Marvolo Riddle.

She really did try. She tried to think about the things he did in the future. There were no excuses for him. His deeds were evil, and she hated what he did, but it did not stop her from thinking about the way his lips moved against hers or the way his hand tangled with her hair as they embraced. She tried to think about Harry, Ron, and Ginny's reactions if they found out, but other than guilt, she could not find regret. It terrified her. It really did, so she tried even harder to think of ways  ** _not_** to be attracted to him.

Lord Voldemort was evil.

He was insane. He was a maniac. He was cold-blooded. He killed too many people to count just so he could reach his goal, including people whom she cared about. Heck, she had very nearly become target practice for him and his lovely Death Eaters in the future if Harry had not won.

But it did not work. Her heart soared when she thought about him holding her close.

Merlin, she even tried to think about the way he looked in the future, but to her horror, it no longer repulsed or scared her. It was stupid, very, very stupid, but she almost believed that the older Lord Voldemort would not harm her—the key word being  ** _almost_**. It was something she tried to push to the back of her head, but she just knew that if he found out she was Muggle-born, he would not hesitate in killing her. And yet, even  ** _that_**  did not extinguish the emotions she had for him.

But naturally, she was  ** _not_**  letting him know about that revelation anytime soon.

"Aren't you afraid that Iris might see us?" she asked mockingly, composing her thoughts and focusing on what was on hand—or rather,  ** _who_**  was standing in front of her.

He chuckled softly. "Now that isn't the kind of voice I hear from Hermione Granger every day." After a short pause, he continued. "I believe that you would find Iris rather insignificant and boring when it comes to dueling, so attempts to trigger her jealousy would only be pointless."

She huffed in exasperation. As strange as it might seem, she found it a lot easier to deal with him when he had his pretenses and masks on.

"Your anger, however, is something  ** _I_**  do find entertaining," he whispered as he pulled her closer again and lowered his head towards her.

"Hermione!"

With a start, she broke free from Tom and looked towards the sources of very, very familiar voices. Initial joy at seeing the fully recovered Ginny Weasley standing at the end of the hallway was quickly replaced by anxiety when she noticed the thoroughly frightened and shocked expressions on Harry and Ginny's faces.

_Shit._

She so wished that she could curse the Slytherin standing next to her right now. She was certain that he had known that Harry and Ginny were back in school and had simply been waiting for the chance to let them know about her "relationship" with him.

And that smirk spreading across his face when she glared at him from the corner of her eye only confirmed it.

Hoping that they had no idea about what had nearly just happened, Hermione ran over to the duo with a nervous smile. Thankfully, their expressions softened when she stopped in front of them, and Ginny even gave her a small smile. That calmed her down a bit, and happiness upon seeing a healthy Ginny flooded her heart once more.

Her friends were back.

"Harry," Hermione greeted him before throwing her arms around Ginny. "Oh, Ginny." Releasing her, she took a small step back. "Everything's alright now? Did they find out what potions were used on you? How did they cure you?"

"They—" Ginny was about to reply before another voice cut into their conversation.

"Mr. Evans, Miss Weatherby, what a pleasant surprise," Tom said, strolling up to them with such leisure and confidence that it almost looked like he was in his home. He looked at Ginny with a warm smile. "I see that you are better, Miss Weatherby."

With a nervous nod, Ginny gave him a quick glance before looking at Hermione. Harry narrowed his eyes at Tom and took a step closer to Hermione.

"What happened?" he asked in a low voice.

Hermione's mind drew a blank, realizing that he was asking about what occurred moments before they called out her name.

"I ..."

She stole a glance at Tom, who gave her a charming smile in return. The only factor that gave away he was enjoying her predicament was that annoying glint of joy in his eyes. He was a scheming freak alright. But if he thought that Harry and Ginny's return gave him opportunities to make her yield, she would just have to prove to him otherwise.

"Let's go back to the common room," she suggested, thoroughly ignoring Tom for the time being. She would have to "chat" with him about this later.

However, Lord Voldemort was not one to be ignored.

"Wouldn't it be more appropriate to take them to the Great Hall right now, Hermione? I understand that they might be tired from their travels, but I'm sure that they must be starving," he commented.

Harry's eyebrows furrowed in thought as he watched their interactions from the side. When he caught Hermione's attention, his frown deepened. He was apparently confused by Tom calling her by her first name instead of "Miss Granger."

"Right. Let's go to the Great Hall then," Hermione agreed grudgingly. Tom would have to sit at the Slytherin's table while they were there anyway.

During their walk to the Great Hall, she gave him many warning glances, trying to stop Tom from chatting with her friends, but of course, he ignored her "signals."

 _Merlin forbid Lord Voldemort taking orders from anyone_ , she thought sarcastically, her annoyance at him increasing by the second.

"So what happened to Ginny?" Tom asked conversationally.

"She had been cursed by Dark magic," Harry answered, looking at him askew, "and force-fed Dark potions."

"I see," Tom responded as if he truly had no idea what had happened.

Although Hermione had no idea if he had a hand in assaulting Ginny, for some unknown reason, she had a gut feeling that he was not the main culprit. However, she was just as sure that he knew who had done it.

"Do you remember who attacked you?" he inquired.

Tensely, Ginny shook her head.

"They don't know what caused her to lose that part of her memory. It could've been the spells or the potions," Harry replied, not taking his eyes off Tom. "It is clear that her attacker took precautions, just in case she was not killed."

A shiver ran down Hermione's spine at Harry's voice. Although it was not exceptionally unfriendly or cold, there was just an element in there that chilled her. She could tell that he still suspected Tom, and she could hardly blame him. She was just glad that Harry was not being rash and pulling out his wand to curse Tom right there and then.

"How unfortunate," Tom replied, his voice laced with concern. "Let's hope that no one else gets attacked by this person."

"Let's hope," Harry agreed.

Despite the fact that the tension between him and Tom had not decreased in the least, Hermione could not help but smile. At least something positive happened because of the attack on Ginny. She always knew that Harry could be strong, especially when his friends were in danger, and she was correct since Harry was facing Tom with more confidence than before.

Theoretically speaking, Harry should have been audacious right from the start since he did defeat Tom in the future. The only explanation Hermione could come up with for his fear was because he was thrown off by the fact that he had to face his nemesis once again, and one that would not die until much, much later.

Thankfully, Tom stopped with his questioning after this, and her friends were not in the mood to strike up a conversation with him either. So, Hermione was allowed a short moment to recompose herself and to think. It was pretty obvious that Harry and Ginny would ask her questions she did not want to answer once they sat down at the Gryffindor table.

And it annoyed her to no ends that there was nothing she could do but take one step at a time.

As she had expected, once they sat down at their table, Harry immediately commented, "He called you ‘Hermione.’"

"Well ..." she replied slowly, picking up a ladle and piling some food onto her plate after she filled her goblet with pumpkin juice. "Yes ... I mean ...  ** _I'm_**  calling him ‘Tom’ ... so it would be weird for him to call me ‘Miss Granger’ in response."

She desperately hoped that her face was not as red as she felt it was. As discretely as she could, she glanced at Harry from the corner of her eye. The frown on his face had deepened, and the worried expression had reappeared.

"What happened before we called out your name?" This time it was Ginny who asked the question.

Hermione picked up her goblet and took a long drink out of it. "Hm ..."

"He was  ** _holding you_**  in his arms," Harry pointed out.

"Oh. You're talking about that," Hermione answered, placing the goblet back on the table.

"You're not ..." Ginny stopped in her words and bit her lower lip as if there were something she wanted to say but had no idea how to put it into words. Harry looked at her, obviously uncertain what she had in mind.

Hermione, on the other hand, had a hunch about what she was thinking, but she still hoped for the better and wished that Ginny had not caught onto anything.

"It almost seemed as if ... he was about to kiss you," Ginny said instead, a frown marring her face, too.

Hermione quickly covered up her nervousness by laughing, and Harry was apparently taken aback by her reaction, but soon, he joined her with chuckles of his own.

"Ginny, that's impossible," he replied for Hermione. "He hates Muggle-borns. Even if he doesn't know Hermione's background, Granger isn't a pure-blood surname, and I doubt he would want to be linked to a half-blood." He gave another affirmative nod. "And there's no way Hermione's going to let  ** _him_**  out of all people kiss her. Ron's waiting for her, and Riddle ..."—Harry lowered his voice—"Hermione knows how Riddle's like."

 _Eh ... on a completely different level than when we first got here_ , Hermione mentally agreed with Harry's words as guilt upon hearing Ron's name caused her stomach to flip-flop again.

"Yes ... but ..." Ginny trailed off in her words again, eying Hermione worriedly. "He ... he could be very charming when he wants to be."

_"Very charming" certainly doesn't cut it._

"But he's still Riddle," Hermione replied softly, the truth of her statement somewhat hurting her in the process.

She had spent the last few days worrying about everything there was to worry about, and she would be a downright fool if she had not thought about the thin line she was walking on.

She knew she was meddling in dangerous things, things that she should not have touched upon since the first second, but now was not the time to dwell on that. She could tell that Ginny was already suspicious, so she could not afford to let Harry get worried, too.

So, with that thought in her mind, she added, "Does it look like I'm the type to fall for charming blokes?"

Harry and Ginny shared a glance, obviously uncertain in regards to how they were supposed to answer that question, so Harry changed the subject instead.

"Did he try to get answers out of you again?" he asked, believing that that was the case.

"Of course. It's  ** _him_** _,_  and you could only expect that much," Hermione answered, mentally letting out a sigh of relief.

Thank goodness for the Harry-given answer.

"But he didn't try to harm you, did he?" Harry asked.

She shook her head. "He was just ... frustrated that I wasn't giving him the answers he wanted."

That seemed like a good enough answer for Harry since he gave her a nod and turned his attention to the food. However, Ginny was still shooting concerned glances in her direction, but it did not matter to Hermione. She was already grateful that no more questions were thrown her way for the rest of the meal. She knew that their investigation—or at least, Ginny's investigation had not ended yet, and that would most likely occur tonight in the girls' dormitory.

Nevertheless, it was not the nighttime interrogation she was afraid about. The Christmas break would not last forever, and once their classmates returned to Hogwarts, Harry and Ginny would soon learn about the rumors, the true and the false ones.

And then, all hell would break loose.

~-0-~

Hermione was pretty sure that Harry and Ginny would stop her from going where she wanted to go once they found out about those rumors. So, after lunch, she immediately bid them good-bye and rushed to the library.

When she entered the library, she ignored the suspicious stares Madam Pince was giving her and walked straight to the desired bookshelf.

She scowled as she double-checked the names of the authors; she could not find "Meadowes," and she was positive that she was in the right section. Growling softly to herself, she gave up and went to another bookshelf to search for Ernest Night. To her relief, she immediately found it. She pulled it out of the bookshelf and flipped to the table of contents.

She made a face when she saw three of the four Founders of Hogwarts listed there.

"Sure. The Founders really had nothing better to do than to make themselves immortal and make sure people across the globe see them," she muttered to herself as she sat down on the floor and turned to the section about Slytherin.

_There is no question about Salazar Slytherin's obsession with being immortal. Known for being the most cunning of the four, there were legends about Slytherin using many different methods to trick Rowena Ravenclaw into tweaking different potions, spells, and hexes to accomplish the deeds he had in mind. Of course, this is not to say that Slytherin was not an intelligent wizard. It was quite the contrary. However, he had better things to do than discovery._

_Some people might remember the legend about the Chamber of Secrets, a "legendary" room located in Hogwarts. I place quotation marks around the word "legendary" since there is no doubt in my mind that there is such a secret lair in the school and the existence of a horrible monster within its confines. Although I, like all others, have no idea what this creature is, I still believe that only the true descendant of Slytherin or Slytherin himself could control this monster._

_The reason I mention this legend is because I believe that while Ravenclaw was busy working with the potions and spells, Slytherin was spending a large amount of time caring for this monster and setting up wards so that people unrelated to him would not have access to this dungeon. Although some might believe this to be ludicrous, we must reinvestigate the environment of the time period we are talking about. There is no question about Ravenclaw's intelligence, Gryffindor's bravery, and Hufflepuff's determination. Why, then, were they unable to find this hidden place?_

Hermione raised her eyebrows. It appeared that the book was not as full of junk as she had presumed, and she was about to continue reading when a shadow loomed over her.

"Still researching about Slytherin?" a voice asked.

She looked up and found Tom looking at her with a faint smile on his face. She narrowed her eyes at him as her previous anger rushed through her veins once more.

"To what do I owe the pleasure of seeing you here?" she asked, the words slipping out of her mouth before she could stop them.

He tilted his head to one side, and his smile widened, annoying her thoroughly. She snapped the book shut and stood up.

"Aren't you going to thank me?" he questioned her softly, placing his arms on either side of her to prevent her from walking away.

Her eyes narrowed dangerously, and her hands tightened on the book.

"Pray tell what should I thank you about?"

"Hm ... It was quite a hard thing to restrain myself from telling Mr. Evans and Miss Weatherby about how passionately you kissed me in that deserted classroom."

At his words, Hermione's cheeks rapidly turned pink.

"I do believe that I deserve your thanks after that," he continued teasingly.

"Oh, really?" she asked, a mocking laugh erupting from her throat.

"Yes, really," he replied cheerfully as if she had just agreed to what he had said.

Thoroughly frustrated with the young man standing in front of her, she humphed and tried to push his arm away but to no avail.

"Let me go," she demanded, glaring at him.

"We're not finished with our conversation yet, dearest," he said, moving closer to her.

She took a step back until her back was right against the bookshelf.

"Oh, yes, we are," she firmly said.

"No, we're not," he murmured, touching her cheek gently with his hand. "I think we should finish the 'conversation' that got interrupted by Mr. Evans first."

If possible, her face turned even redder.

"Harry and Ginny aren't here right now," she snapped, although her heart could not help but skip a beat at his suggestion.

He laughed as he shifted even closer to her.

"It was certainly delightful watching your interactions with them," he admitted, running his hand through her hair, "but that doesn't mean that that was my only intention."

Her breath hitched, but before he could close the distance between them, the sound of someone clearing their throat nearly made Hermione turn cold. She whipped her head around and was more than relieved to find Madame Pince glaring at them like a vulture.

It was worth earning the wrath of Madam Pince as long as the person who caught them was not Harry or Ginny.

Tom released Hermione before approaching Madam Pince with a charming smile plastered on his face. After a short exchange of words, Madam Pince softly reprimanded them, warning them not to commit the offense again, before sending them away.

 _Well, at least there are benefits when your partner in crime is Tom Marvolo Riddle_ , Hermione thought.

He even had the librarian charmed, which was an almost impossible feat.

Though frankly speaking, that in itself did not amaze Hermione any longer. She was not very much immune to Tom's charm either. If someone had told her three months ago that she would become obsessive about  ** _Lord Voldemort_** , she would not have hesitated in hexing that person. Now, however, it was getting harder and harder for her to resist him. It seemed as if the harder she tried to push away her feelings, the stronger they hit her whenever he appeared.

_How things change with time, especially when time travel is involved._

And as she walked back to the Gryffindor tower, she had to agree with one thing: Time was definitely something that should not be tampered with.

~-0-~

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Huge thanks to my wonderful betas, LSMerlot and Nerys!


	24. Chapter 24

**Chapter 24**

When Hermione finally returned to the Gryffindor common room, she found Harry and Ginny chatting beside the fireplace. They looked up when she entered the room, and as discretely as she could manage, she placed Ernest Night's book into her bag.

Harry and Ginny shared a glance with one another while she walked towards them, which alerted her. Had Ginny convinced Harry that her worries were not pointless?

They motioned for her to sit in the armchair near theirs next to the fireplace, and Hermione could not help but feel that their smiles were a bit strained.

"So how are you feeling now, Ginny?" she asked after she sat down.

"Loads better," Ginny replied and wrinkled her nose. "Though, the tastes of the potions they've forced down my throat before we left St. Mungo's are still in my mouth."

"And the memory loss ... they haven't found a way to reverse it yet?" Hermione asked.

"They're still researching it," Harry answered, "but they haven't come up with an answer yet. I thought Dumbledore might be able to help us, but he's not back from Germany."

"No, he's not," Hermione confirmed with a sigh.

It had been one and a half months already, and there were still no messages about Dumbledore. She could only assume that Feierabend was harder to find than he had presumed.

A momentary pause fell over the trio, the crackling of the fire being the only sound breaking the silence. Most of the Gryffindors had gone home for Christmas. The remaining students who stayed were outside playing in the snow, so the three of them could speak without worrying about a fourth pair of ears hearing their conversation. The quietness unnerved Hermione. It felt like the calmness before a storm, the subtle rumble of an impending flood, and she could tell that both of them had a lot of questions that they wanted to ask her.

"You ..." Harry suddenly spoke up, catching Hermione's attention. She glanced at him and found him looking at her rather apprehensively. "You ... seemed to have gotten closer to him while we were gone ... Riddle, I mean ..."

She nibbled the inside of her cheek. She had always found it difficult to deceive her friends. Her enemies, or even acquaintances, she could easily lie to, but  ** _not_**  her friends.

"Slughorn made him my Potions partner while you were gone. It's rather ... difficult to not speak to him throughout the entire class, and as you know, he's quite the talker," she explained in a soft voice.

"Why did Slughorn make him your partner?" Harry asked.

She contemplated the situation before her and suddenly realized that if she went ahead and told Harry about Slughorn's presumptions, they might understand. They might even find it funny, and if they heard the rumors from the other people, they would not be too worried.

"Slughorn ... he ... Oh, Harry." With that, Hermione gave a short laugh. "He thought Tom and I were a couple."

She threw up her hands in frustration—it was not too hard to fake that since she was thoroughly confused about her "relationship" with Tom, if she could even call it a relationship.

"And he just doesn't get it, and it just complicates everything because Tom ... you know how persistent he is when he wants to get information from you. He still isn't convinced that we're from Durmstrang."

Unexpectedly, the complaints came out of her mouth easier than she had thought they would. In fact, something seemed to come off her chest as she spoke. Although she did get ...  ** _some_**  benefits along the way, she could not deny the suffocation she felt, being under the scrutiny of Tom Riddle and being isolated from the rest of the castle. Up until her rendezvous with Tom in the classroom, she had been downright miserable regardless of how well she protected herself from those awful, awful Slytherin witches. And without her friends at Hogwarts to support her, it was ten times worse.

"He hasn't hurt you, has he?" Harry immediately asked, alarm flashing through his eyes.

"No! No ... no, he hasn't," Hermione replied quickly, worried that this conversation might prompt him to attack Tom.

"He hasn't  ** _tried_**  to attack you, has he? Or his cronies?"

Not unless she counted the DADA class when they were practicing the second vampire spell, but that was because he had wanted revenge, and secretly, Hermione could not find it in her to blame him. After all, he  ** _was_**  trying to help her during Hunting Day.

And so, she shook her head.

Harry's expression visibly relaxed after her reassurance, his care for her so apparent that it deeply touched Hermione. Ginny was still quietly monitoring their interactions on the side, and Hermione momentarily wondered if the "trial" were still going to happen in the girls' dormitory.

Well, now that she saw that it was completely unnecessary to mention what happened between Tom and her, it would be a lot easier to explain things to Harry and Ginny.

"Do you at least remember why they captured you though?" Hermione asked Ginny, changing the topic altogether.

Ginny shook her head. "The only part I remember is up to the point when we were sitting in Three Broomsticks. I can't remember anything after that."

"Well, it's pretty obvious why they wanted to capture Ginny, isn't it, Hermione?" Harry said. "It must be Riddle behind all of this."

It certainly did not look good on Tom's part unless the person who cursed Ginny was another talented wizard or witch. There was no evidence that the attacker had to be a Hogwarts student, although Hermione could not comprehend why a random witch or wizard would want to capture and hex Ginny. Biting her lower lip gently, Hermione stopped herself from arguing in Tom's defense, knowing that it would undoubtedly seem condemning in Harry and Ginny's eyes.

She knew that it probably was Tom, and anyone with half a brain would think it was him. However, she could not shake off the feeling that he was not the one who harmed Ginny, or else he would not continue trying to corner her for answers.

"Did Ferret boy do anything to you while we were gone?" Harry suddenly inquired.

Hermione beamed. "You probably wouldn't believe it, but I think he's slowly opening up to me. At least, he seemed sort of worried about me when Tom cornered me at times."

"Riddle  ** _cornered_**  you?" Harry asked, a look of horror on his face. "I thought ... you said he hadn't hurt you."

"He  ** _didn't_** hurt me, nor did he attack me," Hermione responded, a bit flustered that she had unwittingly steered the conversation back to the topic she had wanted to avoid the most. "He wanted answers, so he would try to blackmail me into yielding. I mean, it obviously hasn't worked. The Slytherin witches ... that was mainly why he cornered me. He wanted other students to be under the impression that I'm abnormally close to him." She then quickly added when she saw Harry open his mouth, "But you know how those banshees are. They may know some Dark Arts, but they're not nearly as maniacal as Bellatrix Lestrange or the other Death Eaters."

His frown lightened, but it had not completely gone away, allowing Hermione to deduce that her best friend was still worried.

"Harry," she called.

He glanced at her with uncertainty but remained quiet, waiting for her next words.

She heaved a sigh and gave him a reassuring smile. "I know you're worried about me, but please do trust my judgment when I say that I'm not in danger of dying. Those banshees are nothing to worry about. You've seen Iris Parkinson cast. It's not a big deal."

"Well, none of the sixth year Slytherin witches are in Hermione's league, either," Ginny spoke up. "So, you don't have to worry about them."

Harry drew a deep breath before saying, "Fine. But if they try to harm you ..."

"I'll tell them to look for you first because if Lord Thingy—"

Harry and Ginny could not suppress their snorts at Fudge's "euphemism" for Voldemort's name.

"—can't kill you, then it's obvious that nothing can." Hermione grinned.

"Ron had a pretty good shot at it while we were playing Quidditch last August. The Bludger nearly took my brains out," Harry joked.

"Or the time when he opened George's parcel in front of you without knowing what was inside," Ginny added.

Hermione's stomach lurched at the mention of Ron's name. She had not smiled in response to Harry's joke, but neither of her friends noticed since they immediately started talking about fond memories.

It was the second time Harry had mentioned Ron's name after their return from St. Mungo's, and this time, she could not bring herself to push away those feelings of guilt any longer. It had been easy to forget everything and allow herself to become reckless. After all, everything almost  ** _felt_**  like a dream. But now, with Harry and Ginny back, she could not allow herself to escape any longer. Who knew when they would be traveling back to the future? It would be unfair to both Ron and ... Tom.

She nearly closed her eyes and sighed. Her heart constricted at the mere idea of leaving him, but she knew that she was not given an option in this situation and that she would inevitably have to return home.

Therefore, she mentally vowed to sort everything out as soon as possible—at least, before she returned to the future. Even though she might be ...  ** _attached_**  to Tom, it was an impossible relationship. She should not cling onto it. Her future was ... in the future.

As they returned to their rooms, Ginny stopped Hermione before she could enter her dorm.

"Hermione ..."She gnawed on the inside of her cheek, seemingly unsure of how to put her thoughts into words. "Hermione, I was ... well, sort of acquainted to him. I know how charming he could, unfortunately, be. You don't have to worry; you can tell me. I promise I won't tell Harry a thing."

Out of the random, Hermione suddenly felt the urge to search out Tom's diary and make the stupid Horcrux disclose what "interactions" it had had with Ginny—and may luck be with him if the answers did not make her pleased. However, it would probably have no idea what she was going on about since the events technically did not occur yet.

"Ginny, he's going to try every method to get answers out of us," she said, followed by a short pause.

She had to take caution with her words; she did not want her friend to have a heart attack right after a visit to St. Mungo's. It was clear that Ginny kind of guessed that she might have fallen for Tom.

She released a sigh and said, "I know how charming he can be; I've been Harry's and your friend long enough to know what a manipulative freak he is. Remember when we first got here?"

Ginny nodded. "I know ... but ... I'm just worried ..."

Hermione laughed. "What did you expect him to do, Ginny? Track me down and throttle me for not giving him answers he wanted?"

Ginny snorted as she considered Hermione’s comment. "Just remember," she said after a moment, "if there's anything at all, anything you want to talk about, you can trust me. I might not be the best person when it comes to ideas and solutions, but I promise you that I'll be a good listener."

Hermione knew that Ginny was a great friend, and she was grateful that she was offering her help. Nevertheless, the situation between her and Tom was not something she wanted to pull her best friends into. No, it was best for Harry and Ginny to stay out of it altogether.

"Thanks, Ginny. Don't worry," Hermione reassured her with a warm smile.

~-0-~

After a night of unsettling dreams about Harry and Ginny finding out and reprimanding her, the next day was finally here. Pulling her tired body out of bed, Hermone changed into her normal wear and met up with Harry and Ginny to go downstairs for breakfast. Midway there, they ran into Draco, who was also heading there. Much to Harry's dismay, Hermione started chatting with Draco, so there was no way for him to shoo the Slytherin away.

When they entered the Great Hall, the girls promptly gasped. Hermione had thought that there would be no decorations since she had not seen the professors working on them for the past few days. However, it appeared that they had either worked on it last night or the house-elves had made miracles out of nothing.

Snowflakes fell down from the enchanted ceiling, and the moment they touched the tables, glittery sheens were formed, creating a rather fantasy-like wonderland right in front of their eyes. Silver wind chimes hung in midair, giving off tinkling sounds whenever snow fell on them. The four House tables were nowhere in sight. Instead, a single long table sat right in the middle of the room. Candelabras stood on top of it, their flames flickering ever so slightly whenever the shiny particles in the air interacted with them.

A gigantic Christmas tree was positioned right behind the staff table, filled with ornaments and with a huge golden star sitting at the very top. All of the windows had icicles hanging at the top and piles of snow on the sills, no doubt magical ones since the temperature inside was cool, rather than cold. Even Draco and Harry had to stare in awe at the floor, which made them feel as if they were walking on ice, though without the slipperiness.

To prevent Harry and Draco from getting at one another's throats, Hermione sat with Draco on one side of the table while Harry and Ginny sat on the opposite side. Once they sat down near the end of the table, their eating utensils appeared in front of them, closely followed by the food.

A few moments after they sat down, a booming voice caught their attentions. Harry and Ginny turned around to see Slughorn sauntering up to them with Tom closely in his wake.

"Mr. Evans, Miss Weatherby, how wonderful it is to see you two again!" Slughorn exclaimed.

Tom's eyes landed on Hermione. His lips curved into a faint smirk, and Hermione felt her heart skip a beat.

This was  ** _definitely_**  going to be harder than she realized.

While Slughorn unintentionally distracted Harry and Ginny, Tom walked behind Hermione and bent down until his lips were near her ears.

"Had fun last night?" he asked, his breath brushing across her earlobe and nearly causing her to shiver.

"Wouldn't you like to know," she replied under her breath.

Her eyesight was then caught by Draco who was sitting next to her. He raised his eyebrow at her, although he did not look particularly surprised at their closeness. With her heart speeding up, Hermione suddenly realized that Draco had yet to comment about her absence from the latter half of Slughorn's party, nor had he commented on her and Tom's supposed relationship. An uncomfortable feeling welled up from the pit of her stomach. Had Draco told Tom everything? Was he the "newest" Knight of Walpurgis walking around Hogwarts?

Her mind was suddenly crammed by the excess of questions, and her expression probably showed her suspicions since Draco frowned. However, Tom, who was standing behind her, had no idea about it, and he merely thought that Hermione had forgotten his presence.

And one could not just disregard Lord Voldemort.

He sat down in the seat next to Hermione, and his arm slipped around her waist, causing her to almost squeak out loud. Her horrified expression caused Draco's eyebrow to disappear further underneath his bangs, although amusement was now clearly imprinted on his face.

She could not open her mouth and protest, in fear that this might alert Harry and Ginny, so she shot Tom an angry glare instead.

"Do I have your attention now?" he asked softly next to her ear.

Her fury redirected itself towards Draco, who was sitting there doing absolutely  ** _nothing_**  while his fellow comrade was being harassed by the future Dark Lord.

The bloody ferret was  ** _definitely_**  a traitor. She was sure of it now.

Before she could extend her leg and kick ferret boy, Harry and Ginny turned around, and much to her relief, Tom's arm readjusted so it was still on her back, but no longer in sight of her friends.

However, his choice to sit next to the bushy-haired witch was enough to cause the duo to stare while Slughorn continued to chatter on without noticing the oddness of their expressions.

"I need to speak with you," Hermione said below her breath, making sure to keep the movements of her lips to a minimum. She was very glad that Slughorn was asking Harry and Ginny more questions, so they could not monitor all of her actions.

Tom stared at her quietly and did not answer, but she had a feeling that she had his consent. Suddenly, she almost wished that he would tell her that he was busy and did not have time.

How was she going to tell him?

It made her want to bang her head against the table, and being this close to him made it even harder for her to make up her mind. Especially when Iris walked through the doors and took the seat right next to Tom.

Therefore, after breakfast she bade Harry and Ginny good-bye and went to the library. The two of them shared a glance, but Hermione could not care about that for the time being. They could question her all they wanted later on, but right now, she had something to resolve first.

She gave Madam Pince a short nod and hurried over to the end of the library where students hardly went to, even when it weren’t during the holidays.

Moments later, she felt his presence.

She closed her eyes, breathing the air in, and for the first time, she felt helpless. She did not want to do this. She did  ** _not_**. As stupid as it might sound, she did not want to leave this man who had made her experience every kind of emotion possible. She did not want to leave the man that had finally given her the opportunity to experience what it was like to love someone, regardless of whether he may or may not love her.

But she must.

Taking a deep breath, she turned around.

The sunlight poured through the window, shining on the pale skin of his face and the shiny black locks of hair. The darkness of his eyes was strangely enhanced underneath the brightest object in the skies. His arms were crossed in front of his chest, and he was leaning casually against the edge of the library table, waiting for her to speak.

And she so wished that he would not allow her to speak her mind.

_What happened to the super talkative Dark Lord?_

Minutes passed, and words still did not make it out of her mouth.

He raised an eyebrow at her, thoroughly mystified in regards to why she had asked to speak with him and had not spoken a word.

"I ..." she opened her mouth and found that her throat was beyond dry. Gathering up all the courage she had, she tried again. "I ... I can't do this anymore."

He did not reply. He merely stood there and gazed at her. His expression had changed from mildly interested to indecipherable, his emotions hidden behind that indifferent mask that slid over his features.

"I ... It's wrong. I feel ... guilty every time I do this. It's not fair to ... to  ** _him_** ," she said. Her volume as well as her head lowered with each word she said until she was nearly whispering and her chin was nearly touching her chest.

Another period of silence went by, and she did not know what she was wishing for, but she knew she could not open her mouth to repeat what she had just said.

He finally replied, "I see."

Unsurprisingly, his tone of voice bordered on "freezing," but it still caused Hermione to look up at him. His eyes were as cold as his voice, and his posture had taken a certain rigidness to it.

A short, soft laugh erupted from his throat. "I should have guessed. Mr. Evans is back in Hogwarts, after all." A sarcastic smile tugged at the corner of his lips. Before she could ask him what he meant, he continued, "If that is all you have to say, I'm afraid I will have to take my leave of you. I still have some homework that I have to finish."

Without waiting for her reply, he turned around and swept out of the library.

She stared after him, not believing how the conversation turned out.

What had she expected? She certainly did not expect him to beg her to stay—he would not be Lord Voldemort if he did. Had she expected him to throw a tantrum? Well, this was the library, so he would not risk his reputation for whatever reason.

However, she could not help but feel a deep sense of loss as she stared at the place where he had been standing a few minutes ago. Additionally, she could not forget that look on his face right before he had stalked out of the library. It was ... dangerous, far too dangerous for someone his age and far too calculating. She felt as if she were facing an older version of him.

And somewhere in the back of her mind, she realized that things were certainly far from over.

~-0-~

That day, she skipped lunch altogether, feeling no appetite whatsoever after breaking things off with Tom. Therefore, she was practically starving by the time it was dinnertime. She stayed in the library and did not even attempt to seek out Draco. That could wait until later.

When she walked down to the Great Hall, as if drawn by fate, Tom arrived at the door at the same moment with Iris trailing not too far behind him. Upon seeing Hermione, Iris narrowed her eyes suspiciously.

Pushing a lock of hair behind her ear, Hermione ignored her and quickly walked into the Great Hall without casting another glance at Tom.

She sat down at the end of the table again and prayed that Tom would not sit down next to her. It would thoroughly tear down her resolve to suppress urges of making up with him. Her worries were pointless; he took a seat on the other end of the table, near the staffs' table. As hard as she tried, her heart still fell down to the pit of her stomach and made her feel woozy.

Moments later, the other four Slytherins who had stayed for the holidays joined him. Iris, as usual, sat down next to him and immediately started latching herself onto him. Not that Hermione had never seen this happening before. It was a regular occurrence, even after Tom openly walked around with wet spots from her thundercloud, and Hermione never took a second glance at it. However, it just ... bothered her beyond reason today and made her want to rip Iris's hair out.

"Oh, so Iris is back in school, too," Harry remarked, sitting down opposite side with Ginny as Draco slid into the seat next to Hermione.

"Yes, she is," Hermione replied in a clipped tone of voice. She mentally decided not to question Draco in front of Harry and Ginny; they were bound to become worried, and there was no point to that.

Ginny gazed at her, concerned. "Are you alright? Did she ... try to hurt you when we weren't here?"

"Of course. You could only expect that much from a cow like her, and it's not like she could succeed," Hermione huffed, causing her two best friends to laugh at her nickname for Iris.

However, little did they know that Hermione's anger had nothing to do with petty things like getting hexed by mild curses.

Ginny snorted. "She must be related to Pansy." She glanced at Draco askew. "No offense to you, Malloy."

He raised an eyebrow. "No offense taken." He then wrinkled his nose. "And I have to admit that Pansy could be quite whiny sometimes."

Both Harry and Ginny chuckled at this statement even though they still did not trust him completely, and they remained unaware of Hermione's frustration.

Tom chose this moment to look up, and as casually as she could, she looked off to the side. She could avoid looking, but she could not escape the casual chatter that went on between Tom and Iris. The small, familiar chuckle that belonged to him ... she could almost imagine the half-smile he would have when he found something amusing or that slight quirk of his eyebrow when he heard something that was even mildly absurd to him.

By the end of the most torturous dinner of her life, she no longer had any idea if she were more irritated by Tom or Iris.

Or herself.

~-0-~

Although she saved herself from the insane amount of guilt she was suffering from and, surprisingly, Harry and Ginny had not questioned her about Tom's actions during breakfast, she still could not get a good night's sleep. She tossed and turned throughout the entire night, and before she knew it, the morning was here again.

Heading out of the portrait hole by herself since Harry and Ginny were nowhere to be seen, she was grabbed by none other than Draco Malfoy.

"What happened between you and Riddle?" he immediately questioned, his face paler than usual and even more so with black circles under his eyes. His usually neat hair was disheveled as if someone had just thrown him  into a tornado.

She narrowed her eyes at him and pulled his hand off her.

"What did you expect?" she asked coldly.

Her tone took him by surprise, but he did not let that stop him from standing in her way.

"I stayed up for the entire night," he said.

"And how does that concern me? I stayed up for more than two-thirds of the night, too," she snapped.

By now, Draco finally noticed her difference in attitude towards him.

"Is there something wrong?" he carefully inquired.

"Is there something wrong?" she repeated, mockery working its way into her words. " _Is there something wrong_? Merlin, Draco Malloy, you must  ** _think_**  that we are all fools for believing in you."

He took a step back, presumably out of fear because of how venomously she was looking at him right now.

"What are you going on about?"

"What am I going on about? Let me think," she said, tilting her head and pretending to think. "Should I be kind to a traitor? Should I bloody care about what's going on in said traitor's life? The answer to both of those questions is, unfortunately, ‘no.’ So, I suggest that you get out of my way before I hex you, Malloy."

"Wait—What? You—You're accusing me? As being a traitor?" he asked, disbelief ringing from his voice and written on his face.

"Who else?" she replied, folding her arms across her chest.

"You're mental. Why would I betray you?" he demanded.

"I'm not going to talk about it right in the middle of the hallway. But then again, you've probably already told him every single detail, haven't you?" she hissed, narrowing her eyes at him.

He threw a frantic look around and said in a lower voice, "Room of Requirement."

She gave him a long, hard stare, rejection right at the tip of her tongue. In the end, however, she finally inclined her head.

~-0-~

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **A/N** : Huge thanks to my wonderful beta, LSMerlot and Nerys!


	25. Chapter 25

**Chapter 25**

When the door clicked close behind the two of them, Draco immediately rounded on her.

"What were you going on about? What do you mean I've 'told him every single detail'?" he demanded.

"It's obvious, isn't it? You've met up with your former master. What's stopping you from joining his ranks again, especially when he's just starting to rise in power? I can't believe I've trusted you and your sneaking, betraying ferret hide!" Hermione spat out angrily.

Draco stood there, taken aback by what she said. He shook his head, and confusion alighted on his features.

"Wait, what made you think that I joined him again?"

"Well, you seemed awfully calm after those supposed rumors spread out. You did not so much as **_look_**  shocked when you saw him ... him ... what happened in the Great Hall," Hermione said, her cheeks flushing red.

"Oh, so now  ** _I'm_**  the one at fault here? Just because I'm a bit calmer than Potter when it comes to surprising events doesn't make me the evil one. If I hadn't known what kind of person you are, if I hadn't known you for seven years and saw your friendship with Potter, I could've even argued that **_you_**  are the one betraying us," Draco fumed, his grey eyes flashing. "I wasn't the one snogging him behind everyone else's back, Hermione."

Hermione opened and closed her mouth once and then snapped it shut, for she did not know how to defend herself in this situation. It should have been a lot easier to lie to Draco, it really, really should have been, but for some reason, her mind was slowly acknowledging him as a friend, which made the option of lying obsolete.

Since when had she started considering Draco a friend? She had no idea, and it probably should have made her feel worse that she still considered him a friend after believing him a traitor.

His eyes softened a bit, and he heaved a sigh. "Look here. I ... I'm not saying that you're wrong." He frowned slightly. "And I guess I can ... sort of see the reasoning behind your accusations. I probably should have sought you out and asked you about what this whole ... situation is about, but Abraxas has been keeping a close eye on me, most likely on Riddle's orders."

He paused, picking on a loose strand on his robes absentmindedly.

She could not work up her anger again after what he said. He had a point: Perhaps Draco did have a reason for acting the way he did, and she should give him a chance to explain himself. Not that she could trust him wholeheartedly right now, but at least she should give him a benefit of a doubt.

Then again, thinking in retrospect, she had been simply lashing out at Draco because of her bad mood.

"Why?" she asked. Overridden by guilt, her voice towards him became softer.

"He's, of course, still suspicious about us, but ... Hermione, I think he's ..." He stopped in his words again and nibbled the inside of his lower lip while a frown marred his pale face. "I think he's on his way to mastering Legilimency. I ** _think_** I felt it last night, but I can't be sure. I don't recall reading about how long it takes to master the art."

"It's different for each person. Archelaos the Wise was rumored to master the art within six hours," Hermione sighed, frowning, too.

A strangled noise escaped from Draco. "He's had the books since we've arrived."

"I know."

"... but I never saw him read them," Draco continued in a softer voice.

Hermione stared, realizing the indications this information might or might not have.

"How much ... do you think he knows?" she asked, her voice panicky.

"I don't know. At least I'm pretty sure he doesn't know we're from the future yet," Draco replied, running his hand through his hair. "It's just ... I don't understand it. I'm still thinking that I'd imagined it ... about Riddle performing Legilimency on me, that is. He ... when he did it to me back then ..." He involuntarily shuddered.

She nodded, remembering how Harry was like after the Occlumency lessons with Snape. With her heart speeding up, she recalled the many times Tom had directly or indirectly stared into her eyes. Was he using Legilimency during those moments? She had not felt anything, but that did not mean he had not found information.

 _Shit, shit, and more shit_ , Hermione thought with a sinking heart. She could not shake off the feeling that something was awfully wrong with those moments now. Those suspicious smirks every time she turned away or those indecipherable gazes ...

Merlin, of course, she could try to make herself feel better by thinking that he realized she was trying to prevent him from using Legilimency on her. However, they were talking about Lord Voldemort, and Dumbledore himself had said that Tom was a brilliant student. What were the chances that he had not learned it yet?

"Do you think he's just putting the books there as a cover up?" Draco asked.

_Well, then we're all officially screwed all the way to hell and back here again, aren't we? Because then he'll know every single thing that happened. And dear Merlin, have we changed the timeline?_

Hermione froze as that thought crossed her mind. What exactly would happen if they changed the timeline? There were wizards who had gone back in time and killed their past selves. So time could be changed. The problem would be, how much could be changed before they were wiped off reality? Heaven's sake, had something happened to Dumbledore because they came back to the past?

"Hermione?" Draco called tentatively.

She composed herself and shook her head. "I don't know." She then frowned. "Why are you asking me?"

"Because you happen to know him better than I do."

Her face flushed red again at his statement. "That's not true."

"Come on, Hermione. I was here throughout the whole—" Draco waved his hand to indicate his loss at words to explain her and Tom's situation "—unlike Harry and Ginny. I'll willingly let you Transfigure me into a ferret for the whole day if you haven't been snogging Riddle behind our backs."

She shifted her weight from one leg to the other uncomfortably and did not say anything.

"Although I have to admit that I'm a bit disappointed with you, Hermione. There are so many charming Slytherins out there, and you chose him? Especially when there's a wonderfully handsome, intelligent, and cute Slytherin right next to you? I think that's a worse crime than snogging Riddle!"

Hermione laughed at his statement. "Yes, oh handsome, intelligent, and cute Draco. It really is my loss." When she recomposed herself, she looked at him strangely, "Why aren't you bothered by ... well ... this whole thing?"

Draco rolled his eyes. "We all know how you are. I can't say that I'm particularly supportive of your relationship, to tell the truth, but I don't think you'll actually go and start telling him every single one of our secrets. You ... well, you're just not like that." He paused. "But are you really sure you want to continue on like this? If and when we return to the future ... and when he ... when he dies ..."

She closed her eyes. "I've told him already ... that it couldn't go on."

He stared at her before throwing his hands up in exasperation. "So that was it? So that was the reason he was taking out his anger on me last night?"

She then remembered their conversation in front of the portrait hole.

"What happened last night? Why did you stay up for the whole night?" It then hit her. The fatigue on Draco's face, the fear in his eyes ...

She gaped at him, an image forming right in her mind's eye. The mere thought of it horrified her.

"He didn't."

Reluctantly, he nodded.

"But ... but ... you're still ...  ** _sane_**."

He gave her a sarcastic look. "Thanks for sounding so relieved and worried."

"I mean, if you were placed under the Cruciatus for the entire night ... Neville's  ** _parents_**  cracked under the Cruciatus."

He shrugged as a dark look clouded over his features. It appeared that some internal struggling occurred before he finally said, "It's not the first time."

The reality of her imagination froze her right to the core of her being, and the thought of  _that_ happening because of her ...

"Oh," was all she could say.

She urged her mind to work, to move, to  ** _think_** , but it literally shut down on her. She did not know what to think any longer. In some other kind of situation, she probably would have felt thankful that she had not seen the darker sides of Tom— ** _yet_**. However, with her friend (and Merlin knows when that would extend to "friends") suffering under his wand, she could not say that she was not concerned. Frightened. Outraged.

Suddenly, she wished that she were the way she was one and a half months ago. She wished that she had never developed these uncalled-for feelings for Tom Riddle.

But there was nothing she could do, and it made her even more frustrated than before.

"What ... Why did he do that?"

"He didn't say in particular. He asked me the questions from before. Where were we from ... who were we ... and when I told him the same answers, he ..." he broke off in his words. "I think he was trying to loosen my tongue with the Cruciatus. Or, he was trying to make my mental barriers weaker so he could penetrate them with Legilimency ... but again, that's a guess on my part because it happened so many times back then that it could have been just my imagination."

"Then, what does it have to do with me?" Hermione protested, still remembering that he had placed the blame on her.

"Because every other time he Cruciated me was when it had something to do with you," he answered, shooting her an annoyed look.

"It could have been something else that bothered him."

"Oh, please, Granger. Are you going to start with the denial  ** _again_**? It's getting old. He's interested in you, although I can't see why," Draco said condescendingly, observing her from head to toe. "I can't tell you if he has ulterior motives or not though, so you probably should be careful about that."

Hermione ignored his jab at her looks and frowned in thought. He did have a point, but she could not perceive what Tom's reasons were for being interested in her, other than the fact that he wanted to know where she was from.

Could that be it?

She felt a stab at her heart at that thought. Was he really just flirting with her to get information from her?

"I wouldn't dwell too much on it, Granger. I don't think he merely wants you for information," Draco's voice broke off her train of thought.

She looked at him questioningly, and he shrugged.

"If he simply wanted you for information, this doesn't seem like a common tactic of his: to  ** _snog_**  the girl into submission." He grinned when he saw the discomfort on Hermione's face.

"Well, I'm sure with Snake-face, snogging wouldn't actually work," she said, rolling her eyes.

"Of course it wouldn't work on others, but it probably would with you," Draco sniggered.

"Oh shush, Malfoy."

"What? Can't think of a comeback, Granger? That doesn't seem like you at all," he taunted. Before Hermione could reply, he continued to say, "But as I was saying, there seems to be something more. If he really, really wanted to, without Sparkly Eyes here, he could've just ... I don't know ... kidnapped you or something and Cruciated the information out of the two of us simultaneously. It's not like the rest of the professors would believe that the innocent and angelic Tom Riddle would do something like that."

Hermione nodded her head slowly, and her heart lightened slightly.

"But," Draco spoke up again. He eyed her carefully, watching her expressions. "Have you told him you're a Mud—Muggle-born yet?"

He sat down in one of the comfortable-looking armchairs and slouched down in it. A wince crossed his face, which did not escape Hermione's notice.

"I thought the Cruciatus didn't leave visible scars," she commented.

"It's not from that. I knocked into one of the tables in the common room," he replied.

Hermione scrunched up her face, and he tilted his head.

"So have you?"

Hermione nibbled on her lower lip some more and shook her head. He promptly let out a short nervous laugh.

"Granger ... Hermione ... do you  ** _know_**  what you're getting yourself in?" he asked frantically, running a hand through his hair.

It was such a change from his previous carefree attitude that Hermione gave him her full attention.

"I ..." she frowned, not knowing how she should answer him.

"He  ** _hates_**  Muggles. He  ** _hates_**  Muggle-borns. I mean ... for Salazar's  ** _sake_** , he hates them even more than  ** _Father_** does, and you know what Father thinks about you and your kind," said he, grimacing at the truth of his words. "If he had the chance, he would destroy every one of them. You  ** _saw_**  Aunt Bella. You know what she was like. You do remember when she was holding the Cruciatus on you, right? You remember how she  ** _looked_**  at you while you were at Malfoy Manor, don't you? Why do you think Aunt Bella adores  ** _him_**? It's not just because she fancies ... I mean, come on, everyone knows she fancies him, but they have a common goal. Did you actually think Riddle is any ..." He inhaled. "You ... Granger, you weren't there when he killed Professor Burbage ... He ... he ..."

He stopped in his words and lifted his head, looking at everywhere else but her.

"I know he hates Muggles, but ... Draco ... I ..."

She could not continue talking about this. There were no explanations for her to tell him, to tell anyone for that matter. She knew that she had feelings for him. She had reminded herself too many times that this was stupid, to fall in love with the biggest anti-Muggle wizard she had had the pleasure of knowing.

She closed her eyes and shook her head.

"I'll sort this out. I will, Draco. I just need ... time," she told him softly.

He looked back at her, but this time, she glanced away, unable to bring herself to meet his eyes.

"Besides ... we're returning to the future soon ... Everything ... everything will return to normal."

"When we return to the future," he mumbled, though she clearly heard what he said.

His words were so very true, and from the bottom of her heart, she wished that what she had just promised him would come true, too.

~-0-~

Although Hermione had promised him that she would sort everything out, Draco Malfoy truly doubted it. Although she had attempted to cover up her true feelings for the Dark Lord, he saw the signs like flashing red lights. He honestly wondered how pea-brains and his girlfriend missed it.

Therefore, after his meeting with her in the Room of Requirement, he went around the castle, searching for Evans and Weatherby to at least warn them. Now, it was certainly not because Draco Malfoy thought of Granger as a friend. Definitely not. It was because they were on the same boat now, and either one of them dying would leave the others alone and struggling. Although there were four people in their little group, everyone knew that there were only two brains. He could not let the only other person with intelligence die now, could he?

Of course, after nearly an hour of searching, he very nearly banged his head on the nearest wall out of frustration when he finally found said duo walking through the entrance from the Quidditch Pitch.

"What do you want, Malloy?" Harry asked when he stopped them.

"Why, good day to you, too, Woolly," Draco drawled.

Later on, when he would be thinking in retrospect, he would realize that it was probably a bad idea to talk so impolitely to them when he was trying to tell them something important. However, the words just came tumbling through. Although he did not want to admit it, it was due to the fact that he still did not want to fully acknowledge that he cared about Hermione, a Muggle-born witch and a Gryffindor. His pride and lineage would not allow that.

"If you're here to look for a fight, I'm not in the mood. Let's go, Ginny," the Boy Who Never Knew What Was Good For Him said, stepping to the side and preparing to walk around him.

"So typical of you, Scarhead. Who'd ever told you that I'm here for a fight?"

"Naturally, you're not here for a fight, which is why you start off by being annoyingly rude," Ginny replied.

It was very apparent to Draco that his presence was unwelcomed, but Hermione's look during their meeting was still very much imprinted in his head.

"I'm just stating the truth, Weaselette. Now, I wouldn't have had to take this trip down here to talk with the likes of you if you two were perceptive enough to notice things happening right before your eyes," Draco sneered.

"Says he who's not looking for a fight," Ginny snorted mockingly.

"Look, if it wasn't because Hermione suggested for us to become comrades for the time being—"

"Which is why you should talk to her and not to us because honestly, Malloy, did you really think that we could trust you immediately?" Harry swirled around and cut in.

"You know what, forget it," Draco huffed, throwing his hands up in the air. "Don't come annoying me if Granger becomes too close to Riddle."

"As if you really care about her well-being," Harry scoffed. "If we were really comrades, shouldn't you've looked after her while we were gone? Did you even try to protect her from those Slytherin witches? Oh wait. I forgot. In  ** _his_**  presence, you naturally would not do anything."

"Just because I think with my brains instead of my rashness, it doesn't mean I'm joining him," Draco retorted angrily. "Hermione doesn't need protection from those witches. She's more than enough when it comes to dealing with them."

"We didn't think you needed protection when you were around  ** _him_** , but Hermione still insisted on checking up on you to make sure everything was alright," Ginny pointed out.

"That's beside the point, Weatherby," Draco replied, crossing his arms over his chest.

Why was it  ** _this_**  hard to have a conversation with Gryffindors? Honestly, it was like there was some sort of inherent disability for people in the House of the Lions to hear what others had to say.

Or was it simply limited to Slytherins?

Then again, Hermione was perfectly fine hearing him out.

Suddenly, from the corner of his eye, he thought he saw movement from around the corner. He twisted his neck around to check, to see if someone were there, but after double-checking, he was positive that there was not anyone around except the three of them. Perhaps it was a trick of the light?

Draco swallowed, slightly afraid now that Riddle or his three cronies who had stayed for the holidays would overhear their conversation. Makedon Crabbe and Gerbasios Goyle were not exactly the smartest bunch—like father, like son, Draco supposed—and even if they heard the conversation, they would probably forget eighty percent of what they had heard by the time they returned to the common room. Antonin Dolohov, however, was as scary as ever. The man always freaked Draco out in the future.

"Then what is your point, if you even have one?" Ginny asked, breaking off his train of thought.

Sighing at the obvious stupidity that characterized Scarhead and Weaselette—the former's brain must have been destroyed by those Killing Curses thrown at him while the latter probably did not have enough money to purchase one—he decided to get straight to the point.

"Look, Riddle's taken an interest in Hermione, and I don't think she's really ... that much against that idea," he said. He frowned when realized how ambiguous that must have sounded to the brainless twits standing in front of him, so he rephrased, "Hermione might have ... well ...  ** _feelings_** towards Riddle."

They both stared at him before Harry snorted.

"Honestly, Malloy. You're out of your mind. Hermione knows just as well as we do what kind of person Riddle is. She's not going to fancy someone like that," he said.

"Evans, you weren't—"

"Harry, Ginny, weren't you going to get changed?" a voice called out.

Draco turned around and found Alphard walking up to them.

"Oh," Alphard said when he noticed that the person Harry and Ginny had been speaking to was Draco. "Good day, Malloy."

"Good day," Draco muttered, running his hand through his hair.

"What were you talking about?" Alphard asked, staring curiously at Harry and Ginny.

" ** _He's_** being stupid," Harry replied, nodding his head towards Draco.

"Oh?" Alphard raised an eyebrow. "About what?"

"Nothing important," Harry replied, frowning, still in distaste about what Draco had just told them. "I thought we were going to meet in the Great Hall after you got changed."

It appeared that Alphard had been playing Quidditch with the two of them previously but had gone back to change first.

"I was waiting there, but I didn't see you coming for a while, so ..." He trailed off, looking at them apologetically. "I didn't mean to rush the two of you, but lunchtime is almost over."

"Don't worry about it. We were about to go, but  ** _he_**  had to tell us something," Harry answered with a smile. "We'll just go change and meet you in the Great Hall."

With that said, Harry and Ginny hurried back to their dorms to change and left Draco and Alphard alone.

Draco dug his nails into the palms of his hands, resisting the urge to shake those two daft Gryffindors walking away. Honestly, it really was a wonder Pothead won against the Dark Lord with that level of stupidity. However, with Alphard around, Draco could not continue voicing his opinions, nor could he tell them why his concerns were not unfounded.

Well, he would have to wait for another chance then, providing he was hallucinating a few minutes ago. If there were a person standing around the corner ... what if it were Riddle himself? With an uncomfortable feeling spreading to the rest of his body, he hurried over to the place where he had seen something move. However, when he got there, he only found an empty hallway.

 _Well, of course, Draco Malfoy. If it were one of the Dark Lord's followers or the Dark Lord himself, they would be waiting for you to find them_ , he thought sarcastically to himself.

"Is there something wrong?" Alphard asked, walking up to him.

"No ... no, there's nothing wrong," he replied, his eyes still on the empty hallway as if he could see what happened there merely minutes ago.

"Then, shall we go to the Great Hall and wait for them?" Alphard asked.

Draco nodded, fighting the urge to run for cover, and they walked slowly towards the Great Hall.

"I thought you went back home for the holidays," Draco spoke up, pushing the unease away to the best of his abilities. Although they were not exactly friends, the two of them had always been rather civilized towards one another.

Alphard shrugged. "We went to Australia actually. Walburga—my sister, that is, was being nasty, throwing our stuff out the window because it was 'taking up her space.' So Cygnus and I threw her into the lake near the place we were staying at." He grimaced. "Not a good idea, after all. We thought it wasn't such a big deal since Cygnus and I always went swimming there in the afternoon, but apparently, Miss Black was too ... fragile and weak. She came down with a horrible cold, and some sort of creature living in the lake crawled up her nose and wouldn't come out. Mum and Dad had to take her to St. Mungo's. The vacation was called off as a punishment to the three of us, so Cygnus and I had to come back earlier."

Draco nodded, recalling his Great-Aunt Walburga from his childhood memories. The woman always found something to complain about and criticize.

"So did anything interesting occur while I was away?" Alphard asked.

"Depends on how you define interesting," Draco said with a humorless smile, thinking about what had just happened the previous night.

Alphard bit the inside of his cheek as if something were really, really bothering him before he opened his mouth again.

"You and Hermione ... I know you're friends ... but are you two really close?" he questioned almost timidly.

Draco snapped his head around and looked at him. A strange thought formed in his head. It was impossible, but honestly, did Granger have  ** _that_**  many admirers back here in the past? Were these blokes blind or something?

Then again, yes, she did have her own kind of charm, but first the Dark Lord and now Alphard ...

Hoping that he was thinking a bit too much about a simple question, he raised an eyebrow. "We're friends. Nothing more than that." A sly smile appeared and disappeared on his face. "Why did you want to know?"

Alphard glanced away and covered his mouth with a hand, clearing his throat once. "I'm just a bit ... concerned about her."

"Concerned about her?" Draco asked, his eyebrow disappearing even further into his bangs.

"Well ... you know ... about her and Riddle," he said, a frown appearing on his forehead.

Draco furrowed his eyebrows, too, obviously feeling lost in the situation as much as Alphard was. He could not deny that he was worried about Hermione becoming too close to Riddle. A Dark Lord wreaking havoc was frightening enough, and he had witnessed first handedly how scary Hermione Granger could become when she was provoked. No, he was very, very worried about the situation right now.

However, he knew that the fewer people knew about what was happening, the better. After all, Riddle was becoming a bit obsessive about who Hermione was dating. It was one thing if Potter got tortured by the Dark Lord—if that were to happen, Draco would have to buy a camera and take down the photo shots. However, Alphard  ** _was_**  a fellow Slytherin. There was no point getting him in trouble, too.

Then again, if it were Tom's agenda to zero in on Hermione's boyfriend (and he so wished Weasel King were here), better Alphard than him. Not to mention the fact that if Alphard and Hermione became an item, then he could push away all his worries about the Dark Lord gaining a powerful witch by his side.

"Hermione and Riddle?" Draco asked, feigning surprise. "Did you really believe that? Those were simply rumors. Hermione would never fancy someone like Riddle."

A relieved expression appeared on Alphard's face. "Are you sure?"

 _Hook, line, and sinker_ , Draco thought.

"Of course! I've known her for many years already. Although she'd never talk about her preferences in boys, it's pretty obvious that she'll never see Riddle as a perfect match," Draco reassured him. A smile appeared on his face as he recalled facts he knew about Alphard. "She's more interested in blokes who play Quidditch."

Which was not a lie. She did fancy Weasel King, and she did go to the Yule Ball with Krum.

Hopefully, Alphard would pick up on that hint and court Hermione.

"Really?"

"I mean, honestly, she has the brains already, but she's not good with sports. Not to say she doesn't like a man with brains, too, or else she'd be bored to death," Draco said, not worried about Alphard's intelligence at all since the young man was in every single one of Draco's classes. "But it's always nice if the other partner knows something that she doesn't, especially with a know-it-all like her. She's really, really bad when it comes to flying."

_Come on, pick up on the hints!_

"Oh, I see," Alphard replied, a smile spreading across his face. "That's good to hear. For a moment, I thought ..."

"No, no, don't worry at all," Draco waved away his words. "Trust me. Hermione does not like Riddle and would never like him."

Alphard seemed more at ease after this reassurance, much to Draco's glee, and when they reached the Great Hall, Alphard joined him in sitting at the end of the table. As more students filed into the room, Draco could not help but remember the ominous feeling he had gotten, the feeling that someone had overheard their conversation while he was talking with Potter and Weasley.

He glanced over at the other end of the table where Riddle and the other Slytherins were sitting. Dolohov was sitting right next to him, but they did not seem like they were chatting. That calmed Draco down a bit, though he could not be sure if Dolohov had told Riddle something already.

"Harry, I was in the  ** _library_**. Madam Pince was in there," Hermione hissed as she sat down beside Draco.

"Yes, but still," Harry whispered, a stubborn look on his face that was mirrored on Ginny's features.

Draco raised an eyebrow. Apparently, Pothead and Weaselette had taken his words to their hearts, though they had not shown it.

"I'm starting to regret telling you everything, Harry, because I seriously do not see how going to the library would endanger me," Hermione said heatedly, her cheeks flushed with anger.

Draco nearly rolled his eyes and mentally sighed to himself. Trust these two to botch everything up. Stopping Granger from going to the library was one of the worst tactics in trying to "keep an eye on her" because she would undoubtedly fight tooth and nail against that idea. Anyone with the smallest bits of intelligence would have known that after staying in her presence for an hour.

"Hermione—"

"Harry, how many times do I have to repeat myself? I'm not going to suddenly drop dead," she seethed.

"Unless one of the books or bookshelves decides to attack her in the middle of the library," Alphard joked. "Or if she tries to vandalize one of the books there and Madam Pince decides to deal with her. Personally, I think one would suffer a much more horrifying death doing the latter."

Hermione snickered at his words, though her posture was still rigid from her conversation with Harry and Ginny.

A small smile appeared on Draco's face, noting the somewhat positive progress between Hermione and Alphard.

"Why do you think she would suddenly drop dead? I'm assuming you're worried because of the rumors, but it's not as if those Slytherin girls are actually overly abundant with magical powers or something. Hermione was handling them pretty well by herself before you came back," Alphard commented. "The hexes she threw at Iris ensured the fact that Iris wouldn't be trying to curse her anytime soon."

"Would the two of you just let the subject  ** _drop_**?" Hermione asked exasperatedly.

It seemed as if Harry still wanted to argue, and Ginny shifted uncomfortably in her seat. However, after some internal struggling, they finally nodded.

The rest of the meal went by without too much fuss, and all in all, Draco was rather pleased with himself when he saw Hermione and Alphard chatting animatedly.

Very pleased.

~-0-~

After spending some time with the others, Draco returned to the Slytherin common room, feeling that his day would have been better spent finishing his holiday homework. Nonetheless, it was at least amusing to see Harry and Ginny sharing worried glances behind Hermione's back. They nearly jumped when Hermione told them she was going to the library to finish her Transfiguration essay, and it was not until she reminded them that Alphard was there, too, that they relaxed in the slightest.

Muttering the password to the stone wall, he walked through the hole and entered the Slytherin common room.

A shiver ran down his spine when he saw Riddle sitting in an armchair by the fireplace, those long-fingered, pale hands leafing through a tome. Calming himself down, he reminded himself that Riddle had not so much as glanced at him throughout lunch. Although, he momentarily wondered how the "reading in front of the fireplace" look could appear so hilariously innocent on Hermione, but so ... menacingly foreboding on Riddle.

Swallowing hard, Draco walked swiftly towards the dorms and was about to set foot on the staircase when the eerily soft voice of Riddle sounded throughout the room.

"Draco."

The blond froze in his steps, not sure of what to do, the memories from last night clearly replaying themselves in his mind, and his behind still hurting very much from the impact against the table. The difference between today and last night was the fact that Draco had not felt it coming today.

And Draco knew that Riddle was at his most dangerous when he spoke in such a friendly way.

"Why don't you join me?"

~-0-~

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **A/N** : Thanks to my wonderful beta, LSMerlot and Nerys!


	26. Chapter 26

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **A/N:** No ferrets were killed during the writing and production of this chapter.
> 
>  **Warning/triggers** : Contains a dubious consent/non-con situation. For this chapter and the next couple of them, there will be controversial attitudes and discussions pertaining to this scene. Please skip to Chapter 30 if this bothers you.

His back rigid, Draco turned his whole body around and stared at Riddle who now had his eyes away from the book and directly on him. Riddle's lips were curved into a friendly smile which almost seemed like a sneer when the candlelight flickered. Those bottomless, dark eyes were like the most lethal of all poisons—cold, unfeeling,  _**deadly** _ . Quite unfortunately, Draco had a very distinct feeling that he was the target.

"I ... I still have some homework to finish."

_And while I'm at it, I really should finish that homework in the library, so I won't be here for the rest of the night._

Those thoughts remained in his mind because Draco knew that if they were spoken out loud, Riddle's displeasure would increase tenfold.

"We still have a couple of more days. Come."

The command was so apparent in his voice that Draco immediately went over without thinking. The moment he found himself standing in front of Riddle, he regretted his decision. Nevertheless, it was not as if he had any other options.

"Sit," said Riddle, gesturing towards an armchair opposite of his.

Draco cautiously sat down in the designated seat and glanced around. A feeling of doom cascaded down on him when he realized that they were the only people in there; the rest of the common room was empty. He had definitely fallen into a snake's pit. Well, he was a snake, too, but compared to Riddle, he was a  _ **harmless**_  snake, those uninjurious, little  _ **garden snakes**_.

Swallowing again, Draco tried to fight the urge to get the hell out of the place. He had never faced the Dark Lord all by himself, and it thoroughly threw him off guard. He wondered where the other people had gone—or was it Riddle's plan? What  _ **was**_ Riddle planning to do to him? Why was it necessary for the other people to not be here? Images of what the future Dark Lord could do emerged in his mind, and try as he might, he could not push them away.

The only thing he could be sure about was that Riddle would not attempt to kill him. However, sometimes, living could be more horrifying than death.

"You must be rather delighted ... that your friends are back in Hogwarts, aren't you?" Riddle asked, marking the book with a piece of paper and placing it on the table.

 _Undivided attention from the Dark Lord. Aren't I the lucky one? Hopefully, it doesn't turn into a torturing session, or else, Draco Malfoy, you're on a roll. Let's hope Riddle doesn't make it into a daily habit_ , Draco thought sarcastically and nodded his head while he pulled up his Occlumency walls. He was awfully glad that he had always remembered to cast a Sticking Charm on his left sleeve to prevent it from rolling up at the most inappropriate moment.

Placing his elbow on the armrest, Riddle propped up his chin with a single hand while he glanced at Draco from the corner of his eye, that smile not completely gone from his face.

"Strange how ...  _ **friends**_ would refer to one another by surnames, don't you agree?"

An ice-cold feeling washed down from Draco's head to the bottom of his feet, but he still managed to remain composed.

"It is something we've done since Durmstrang. We got off to a bad start and didn't become friends until later on in our school years. So occasionally, we'll still banter and revert back to calling one another by our surnames," he explained, praying that Riddle would believe that.

"Oh?" Riddle asked, raising a single eyebrow and leaning back into his chair. It was evident that he did not believe a single word Draco uttered, much to the latter's dismay. "But friends often do  _ **trust**_ one another, don't they? Why do they find it so difficult to trust you immediately?"

_He knows—He was in the hallway—It was him—I'm dead—_

He stopped his thoughts from running out of control since that would directly let the Dark Lord have an easier access to his brain. He brushed back the bangs that had fallen into his eyes and laughed as if it were not something strange to him.

"We like to joke around like that. I've always played jokes on them, so they do find it difficult to believe in what I say. They never know when I'm telling the truth and when I'm lying," Draco replied.

Riddle did not answer immediately but averted his eyes, staring out the window that lined the top of the walls.

"Is that so?" he said softly as if he were contemplating that idea to himself.

In a slow but graceful move, Riddle was out of the armchair, and he walked over to the chair next to Draco's. He leaned against the armrest with his back towards it and stared down at Draco.

"But I am still quite ... baffled, to say the least, and perhaps you will be kind enough to provide me with answers," he said.

The colors drained from Draco's face when he saw that wand hanging loosely in Riddle's hand. Riddle must have noticed it since when Draco looked up again, the Dark Lord had the most horrifyingly chilling smirk on his face.

He should have told Abraxas who he really was. He should have told his grandfather and gone home with him to Malfoy Manor for the holidays.

Merlin's pants, he was screwed, and he knew he could not tell anyone about this.

Riddle's control over Slytherin House was apparent. Even Alphard, who couldn't care less about Riddle's words, never thought about reporting him to the professors. All of the other Slytherins both adored and feared Riddle. If he were to tell on Riddle, they would probably cover up for their idol, and Draco's condition would undoubtedly worsen. Not to mention the fact that Dumbledore was not here and the other professors would probably believe whatever Riddle told them.

"I did think you were a Slytherin, and so, self-preservation would have been your priority. But apparently, I was ... mistaken," Riddle said, his voice as cold as his eyes. "You seem to ... be more concerned about Miss Granger than I had guessed."

Draco gaped at him.

 _For Salazar's sake, Granger_   **again** _? He's got to be kidding me_ , he thought to himself.

"But you didn't seem too bothered by her going to Slughorn's party with Mr. Potter," Riddle mused out loud. "Care to tell me why?"

"We're just ... just friends," Draco replied.

"Are you really?" Riddle asked. "It certainly doesn't seem so."

"We are! We really, really are!" Draco immediately replied.

Riddle placed his hands on Draco's armrest and leaned forward.

"Then why did you feel the need to warn Mr. Potter about Miss Granger ... harboring  _ **feelings**_ for me? Or that I've taken an interest in her?" A small sarcastic smirk formed at the corner of his lips, but suddenly, his face was wiped clean of emotions, though his eyes remained cool. "You're meddling, Draco."

Draco froze. Half of his brain wanted to lean as far away as possible from the young man standing in front of him or just simply run away and hide. The other half logically told him that he should not make any sudden moves; it would just provoke the hunter.

"You're meddling in things that you're not supposed to, Draco," Riddle continued in that misleadingly gentle baritone. "Do you know what happens to people who foolishly do that?"

"I ... I didn't mean to," Draco said, shaking his head in the process.

_Dear Merlin, why did I think it was a good idea to worry about Granger again?_

"You didn't mean to," Riddle repeated with a mocking undertone in his voice. "You didn't mean to ..." Now, the laughter was apparent in his voice, but suddenly, it turned cold once more when he spoke, "To say the least, your  _ **accidental**_ moves will undoubtedly cause me more trouble, and I suppose that was what you were wishing for, weren't you?"

"N-no," Draco lied.

" _Crucio_."

The word slid out of Riddle's mouth so gently. The impact of the hex, however, ripped a bloodcurdling scream out of Draco's throat while he fell down from the armchair to the floor. It must have been minutes, but it felt like hours to Draco.

All the while, Riddle's expression did not so much as flicker.

The curse stopped, and the moment he could inhale and exhale a bit more normally, Draco's eyes flew over to Lord Voldemort, fearful of what his next action might be. He had no idea when Riddle had moved, but the latter was now circling around him slowly, his hands behind his back, still holding onto his wand.

"It's no wonder Harry and Ginny find it hard to believe you. A rather proficient liar, I must say," Riddle said, silent fury emanating from his figure.

Draco shivered slightly, knowing from past experience that speaking up for himself would definitely lead to more torture.

"Or was it because you fancy Miss Granger?"

_What the—?_

"You've got it all wrong," Draco answered, speaking very quickly. "I was never interested in her. The only person who ever liked her was Weasel King ... well, and Krum, too, though I never understood why. We fought most of the years we were in school, and she and Potty weren't even in school for the last—"

He abruptly stopped in his words.

 _Crap_ , he thought as a very vivid image of Hermione Granger slapping him during third year appeared in his mind's eye, and he recalled the scary things she could do to a person when she was angry. A nearly invisible shudder went through him when he recalled "SNEAK" written across Marietta's face. If that were printed on HIS face ...

A pissed off Hermione Granger could definitely be more ... creative than the Dark Lord. At least the Cruciatus did not leave any marks.

And so, Draco made his decision. Swallowing hard, he altered his wording, "—few weeks because they were on an escape from a dark wizard."

 _Grindelwald, Grindelwald, Grindelwald_ , he chanted in his brain, pushing the images of snake-face away to the best of his abilities. All the while, he struggled to keep his Occlumency walls up.

" _Crucio_."

Draco howled in pain as he crashed into his armchair.

"Do inform me when you decide to tell the truth, Draco," Riddle said.

"I'm—I'm not lying!" Draco yelled. "I—I never fancied her! Father would have thrown me to the trolls for liking someone who's not a pure-blood."

"We still have another half an hour until dinnertime, Malloy. Do take your time in considering if you want to tell me the truth or not. I can wait," Riddle called out.

 _Half an hour ... Now, I'm going to get another bruise there ... Half an hour ... Dear Merlin, this is hell ... I can do this ... I can't do this ... I can do this ... Someone kill me now ... I've already gone through him last year ... I can get through this ... But Mum was there last year ... Perhaps I should tell him the truth ... He'd kill all of us if he knew the truth ... He had fifty plus years of experience back then ... He's only seventeen now ... Not like it feels any better_ , the thoughts ran through Draco's mind.

The pain was very nearly unbearable. He felt as if each part of his body were being ripped apart, organ by organ, tissue by tissue, cell by cell.

"I'm not lying! I'm not lying!" the blond hollered at the top of his lungs. "I told you already! Only Weasley and Krum liked her!"

Riddle lifted the curse, and his eyes narrowed.

"Gareth?"

The word slid off his tongue slowly, instilled with venom. Draco shuddered.

"There was another Weasley back home," he replied. Well, there were no ways this maniac could harm Weasel King, sadly enough, so Granger could not possibly kill Draco for this.

Honestly, why was he suffering in Ronald Weasley's place? Life was so unfair. He would have pushed everything onto Potty if he had not known that Granger would have his head.

Riddle crouched down right next to his head, all signs of friendliness gone from his face, posture, and aura. Cruelness spread out like the grips of a ghost—its fingers grasped Draco before he knew it. A cold smirk appeared on Riddle's face as he stared at Draco.

"Do you still insist on lying to me, Draco?" he asked.

Cold sweat broke out on Draco's skin. "I'm honestly not lying. I was never interested in Hermione. There was another Weasley back at home—You would've known if it was Gareth. I mean, Gareth's friendly with you enough to tell you, isn't he?"

"Sounds reasonable enough," Riddle conceded after a moment of contemplation.

Draco released a relieved breath until Riddle's dark eyes slid over to him again.

"Seems like you've been creating a well thought-out story since the first moment, haven't you?" Riddle said.

"I'm telling the truth. I'm really telling the truth," Draco repeated, his heart racing again.

"Last chance, Malloy," Riddle spoke quietly, his eyes fathomless again.

"I'm really ... really not—"

His words were stopped by a swish of the Dark Lord's wand. However, it was not the Cruciatus that hit him. He had no idea what curse it was. He felt as if every single one of his organs were inflating at a rapid speed, but he knew they were not since his body did not change in any way. Yet, those feelings did not stop until pain started shooting through him from every direction as if someone had just lit a firecracker on every part of his body.

He screamed.

~-0-~

Hermione Granger stopped in front of the blank wall with determination in her eyes. Well, that was really all she had right now, but what she needed was the password to the Slytherin common room. She did have her wand, but she found it prudent for her to keep it stowed away in her pocket. She would have to suppress the urge to pull it out and hex the Head Boy when she saw him.

She felt like giving him a taste of his own medicine. How dare he curse Draco just because he was in a bad temper! Well, yes, it was probably insulting to him and his over-inflated ego that someone dared to break up with the future "greatest wizard in the world"—she mentally snorted at that title—but that did not give him an excuse to harm an innocent other.

To her relief, the bricks of the wall hiding the Slytherin common room moved, and a furious-looking Tom Marvolo Riddle stepped through the doorway. When his eyes landed on Hermione, a notable glint of surprise flashed through them, but it was immediately covered up by impassivity.

He was about to stroll away when Hermione hurried up in front of him, stopping him.

"I need to speak with you," she said in a clipped tone of voice.

Her audacity took him aback, and he quietly observed her features as if he were trying to see what she was thinking.

Her previous conversation with Draco floated up to the surface of her mind, and she fought against the urge to avert her eyes. If she wanted to remain in control of the situation, she could  _ **not**_ look away, even if it meant that he was trying to use Legilimency on her. The best she could do was not think of anything condemning to her friends and focus on her self-given mission.

"I'm afraid that will have to wait until another day, Miss Granger. I—"

"No, we need to talk  _ **right now**_ ," she insisted, staring firmly right back at him.

"I'm afraid I cannot comply," he replied frigidly, and he walked around her, preparing to ignore her.

"Afraid that you'll miss your chance to harm another innocent individual?" she sneered, crossing her arms over her chest.

He froze mid-stride, his features hidden from Hermione since he was merely one step behind her.

"Or am I mistaken? Is the victim Draco again?" she asked, swirling around and staring daggers at the back of his head. "How could you do that? It's vile, wicked, cruel, outrageous—"

Taking a quick look around the corridors, he muttered the password to the wall. The opening to the Slytherin common room appeared again, and Tom pulled a still ranting Hermione inside.

She abruptly stopped in her words when she saw a familiar blond sprawled on the floor in front of the fireplace. An infuriated shriek left her mouth, and she wanted to go over to him but Tom was grabbing her arm and pulling her in a different direction.

"You monster!" she screamed. "You killed him!"

"He's still breathing," Tom replied harshly.

His actions were slowed down by her struggling and ranting, but he still managed to pull her into one of the dorms.

With a quick backward slash, the door slammed shut and locked itself. Tom pushed her to the center of the room and threw another spell backwards, presumably casting a Silencing Charm on the room.

"How could you do this to Draco?" she demanded.

"He'll live," he replied coldly, crossing his arms over his chest and staring at her.

His nonchalant expression made her even more outraged.

"You can't just take out your anger on other people. They're not just some kind of worthless objects! What gave you the right—"

"What gave you the impression that I was angry?" he cut in, not even bothering to deny her accusations.

His arrogance added more fuel to her fury. Wasn't it enough that he had tortured Draco? He was not even showing an inkling of remorse towards that.

She grimaced. Of course. Everyone should just bend to  _ **his**_  will. Because he was Lord Voldemort.

"Anyone could see that you didn't take what happened in the library too well."

An ugly sneer contorted his beautiful features. "You think too highly of yourself, Miss Granger. Why should I bother myself over  _ **small**_ ,  _ **insignificant**_  things such as that?"

"One would have to be awfully stupid and dense if they could not link one and two together. What is the chance of the two events happening on the same day?" she pointed out. She narrowed her eyes. "You can't just bully other people because of your own personal problems. Draco's not here for that purpose. He's not an object, for Merlin's sake! He's a living, breathing, thinking being, just like yourself—"

As she spoke, the only thing that happened was an increase in her irritation. Not only had he not answered, but he turned his back towards her and walked in front of one of the windows. He stared out of it while she was talking, so she did not notice it when a flash of red passed through his eyes as she expressed her concern towards Draco and reprimanded him. Although, even if she had, she would not have cared since she had already decided to give him a piece of her mind today.

"—Frankly speaking, Riddle, you are just a coward. If you were so upset about what happened, you should have just taken it out on me, not some other innocent individual," she berated.

In a flash, before she could even register it, his wand was out, and she crashed down, screaming in pain. When he finally lifted the curse, she was left lying on her stomach on the floor. He had turned around, his tumultuous eyes a great contrast to his calm face as he stared at her.

"A rather enlightening speech, Hermione," he said quietly. Fury had made a crack in his facade, and she could feel more than see his wrath. "I should thank you for correcting my error in being overly lenient towards you. If I had known how  _ **protective**_  you were about Mr. Malloy, I would have made it a priority to use him to get the answers out of you."

As he spoke, her hand crawled into her pocket, and her fingers curled around the wand even though her hands were still shaking violently from the aftereffects of the Cruciatus Curse. Her face was hidden from his view by her hair, and a vicious grin appeared when he did not notice what she was doing. No doubt he was under the impression that she could not do anything in her state.

"Perhaps you would have loosened your tongue if I had simply invited you to the Slytherin common room last night. Or are you more concerned about Mr. Evans?" he leered. "After all, you do express utmost care when it comes down to the two of them. Or do none of them mean anything to you at all, and you're simply playing everyone like a fool?"

She had not concentrated on the latter half of his words. His threat to harm both Harry and Draco made her grit her teeth and strengthen her resolve. In a single move, she pushed herself off the floor, pulled out her wand, and returned the favor.

Revenge had never tasted sweeter as his screams of pain reached her ears.

_Take that, Riddle. That was for Harry, Draco, and all those other people you've Cruciated in the past, present, and future._

Carefully, she pushed away the delightful little tingles she had gotten from retaliating, knowing that it would be dangerous to dwell on that exuberant feeling. If one thrived on revenge and torture, they would be well on their way to becoming the next evil overlord—like the one yelling on the floor in front of her.

"How do you like it when it's used on you?" she asked quietly as she lowered her wand.

Tom's eyes snapped open, and instead of hatred, surprise and curiosity were now present in them as he locked eyes with her. For a moment, the absurd and hilarious image of him being a closet masochist entered her mind, but she quickly shook that away. It was clear he had not enjoyed the pain at all. He was probably confounded that she had managed to cast the spell back at him right after being held under the Cruciatus.

Suddenly, he sat up, all the while keeping his eyes on her. Just when she was about to open her mouth and speak, he started laughing. He literally started  _ **laughing**_ , and Hermione had a strong feeling that he was laughing at  _ **her**_. That notion in itself made her really, really aggravated.

"Was that the Cruciatus you were trying to cast on me, Granger?" he mocked. "Because it really didn't  _ **feel**_  like it at all." He looked at her condescendingly. "Never casted an Unforgivable on someone, have you?" He snickered, much to Hermione's resentment. "You have to  _ **mean**_  it for it to work properly. Righteous anger won't make the pain last for long."

He then broke out into laughter again. Hermione stared at him. A twinge of annoyance went through her when she recalled that Bellatrix Lestrange had used nearly the same exact words to taunt Harry. She was not only annoyed because he was openly mocking her, but the idea of that fanatical stalker of his having personal lessons from him irked her to no ends.

She could definitely show him a "proper" Cruciatus Curse this time.

 _No more righteous anger, I promise_ , she thought spitefully to herself.

"I thought you were supposed to be  _ **intelligent**_ , Granger. I would've thought that after reading those books in the library, you would've learned something from them."

She recalled how she had pulled out a book about the Unforgivables a few weeks ago, that day when he had provoked her and had gotten her banned from the library. That memory, on top of his critique, made her very irritated with him. Her wand arm twitched, and before she could hold it back, she casted the curse on him again.

However, he was out of the way before it could hit him. He lunged towards her with a snarl, his hand extended towards her wand and his face livid from the fact that she dared to cast the curse at him again. With a yelp, she fell onto the bed behind her with him on top, and she held onto the wand with all her strength, refusing to surrender it to him.

They rolled around on the bed, each trying to gain the upper hand, but to no avail. Several times, he nearly got singed by the sparks that came out of the tip of her wand. However, Hermione was not faring any better since he was physically stronger— _ **much**_  stronger, which was strange considering how lean he was—than she was. The neatly made bed now had pillows in disarray and bedspreads pushed back and wrinkled due to their battle.

She glared furiously at him as he hovered over her, still trying to prise the wand out of her hand. His other hand was restraining her to stop her from punching him. His legs held hers in place, preventing her from kneeing him in a rather sensitive area. Therefore, his entire weight was on her. His face was contorted by anger, breathtakingly alluring and sinister at the same time, and he glowered at her as if he wanted to rip her apart.

Suddenly, she felt tendrils of his magic wrap around her wrist, and the wand easily slipped out of her hand.

With a furious shriek, she made a grab for it, but he was quicker. He immediately threw her wand far into one of the corners of the room before gazing back at her.

"Let go of me!" she said through gritted teeth, preparing to bite him if necessary as she panted beneath him.

"I win," he taunted, a victorious smirk in place of the previous wrath.

"Argh!" she growled out of frustration.

Damn him!

"Care to disagree, dear?" he further prodded her.

She twisted her wrists around, trying to get them out of his hands, but was unsuccessful. During which he, of course, made it a point to chuckle to himself at her fruitless, pitiful attempts. All the while, she continued to stare daggers at him, which made his laughter even more pronounced and gleeful.

"You vile, evil, wicked, ignorant, arrogant—" she seethed.

"Now, now. I wasn't the one who tried to throw  _ **two**_  Unforgivables at a fellow classmate," he said.

 _Ri-ight. As if_ _only_ _one were any better_ , she thought, still glaring at him.

"No retorts?" he asked, raising an eyebrow at her. "That's a rather rare occurrence, wouldn't you say? Hermione Granger, not arguing about something."

Her temper sparked. She lifted her head, clamped her mouth on his shoulder, and bit down. An annoyed hiss left his lips, and she realized with satisfaction that her bite had drawn blood when a faint metallic taste swirled around her tongue. He quickly released one of her hands and grabbed her hair. The moment she realized he was going to pull her head back, she unclenched her jaws. The idea of tearing out his flesh was just plain revolting.

Now that her hand was free, she proceeded to hit wherever she could reach. Another low growl left his mouth, the sound rumbling against her chest as he released her hair and grabbed her free hand. Before she could bite him again, he leaned slightly backwards, waved one of their combined hands at her, and immobilized her.

"There. Much better," he commented, smiling at her furious expression. He paused, tilting his head slightly and observing her features. "If you're so keen on biting,  _ **my**_  little lioness ..." he said, trailing off with a vicious expression on his face that made her turn cold to the marrow of her bones. "... why don't I ..."

He bent forward to her neck.

"... return ..."

His mouth gently touched the skin there, and she stilled in horror at the thought of what he might do.

"... the ..."

His breath tickled, causing goosebumps to erupt over the rest of her body despite the tension she felt.

"... favor."

His last word came out as a whisper, and the moment she heard it, his mouth clamped down on her neck, causing a twinge of fear to unravel at the pit of her stomach. Her breath hitched when his teeth nibbled the skin there instead, never truly drawing blood. The speed of her heart quickened as he applied a bit more pressure, causing tiny tingles of pleasure to run from her neck down to the tip of her feet.

His mouth traveled up to a sensitive spot right beneath her ear, gently nipping every centimeter of skin he came across, nearly making her moan. His hands undid the buttons of her robes, and when his hand came in contact with the bare skin right beneath the hem of her shirt, she gasped.

"You belong to me," he whispered.

She thought she felt a jolt of magic travel from his hand into her skin and all the way up to her brain, but she could not be sure because her mind suddenly felt a bit clouded. She shook her head, trying to clear the fuzziness. There seemed to be something ... off with her, but she could not pinpoint it.

"If you don't want this, Granger," he said in a low voice beside her ear, "now's your last chance to tell me to stop."

Stop? Why would she want him to stop?

She looked into his eyes. Just because they couldn't be together, it didn't mean that she didn't want this. It was just that it was ... wrong for her to do this ... this was  _ **Lord Voldemort**_  ... She really shouldn't ... and ...

Then, he captured her lips. All of the walls she had built up against him shook as the edges of her resolve started to crumble. His tongue swerved around hers, taunting, daring her to join him. She wanted to shake her head, to throw away the feelings he was giving her, to wave away the temptations that were luring her heart, mind, and soul; but at the same time, she wanted to succumb to his touch, give into his kisses, and surrender herself.

She felt trapped as he deepened their kiss, forcing her to stop fighting against him, and the moment a small sigh from her vibrated between them, his victorious elation surrounded her. She had no idea when he had undone his spell, but her arms circled around his neck, pulling him closer. He continued ravishing her mouth and drove her wild with his touches until her thoughts were dominated by him.

And by him  _ **only**_.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **A/N:** Many thanks to my betas, LSMerlot and Nerys!


	27. Chapter 27

**Chapter 27**

What had she done?

No, no, no! This was all wrong! Everything had gone down a completely wrong road!

Hermione closed her eyes in defeat as she fidgeted around in the arms of one overly pleased Tom Marvolo Riddle. What was wrong with her? She had been here to hex him! She had been here to tell him what was wrong with his way of doing things! How did she end up ...

She wanted to scream out in frustration. How could she do this? How could she ...

Suddenly, she recalled that very suspicious, illogical moment of muddiness in her mind. She had still been thinking quite clearly before that, and then ...

She immediately sat up on the bed, disregarding how the blanket fell down to her waist and how his eyes ran down her rather exposed body.

"You," she hissed, narrowing her eyes at Tom.

Tom raised an eyebrow at her, unwavering in his calmness despite the waves of anger radiating off her.

"Of course it's me, Granger. Did you think someone was posing as me under the Polyjuice Potion?" he asked lazily.

"You've Imperiused me!" she shrieked.

"Wrong," he replied, a smirk gracing his features.

She snorted exaggeratedly. "Do you think I am a fool? Those were the symptoms of the Imperius Curse and—"

He pushed himself into sitting position and looked at her, the smirk widening on his face. "Two wrong answers in a row. Aiming for a third?"

She stopped in her words and glared at him. Amusement appeared on his face when he realized she had no idea what he meant.

"Did you do anything against your will?" he asked.

"The Imperius Curse can make you feel like you want to," she retorted.

"Tsk tsk tsk," he clicked his tongue. "Wrong  ** _again_**. The Imperius Curse makes you do things, and you will feel like you wanted to  _while you are under the influence of the spell_ , Granger. You can't tell me that what has just happened"—his expression turned triumphant when a blush blossomed on her cheeks—"was entirely against your will."

"But—but—but you can't just do that! I was thinking clearly before I felt that jolt of magic! It's—It's—it's—" she sputtered.

"You wanted this, Hermione, or else the spell wouldn't have worked. Let's just say," he told her, a devious glint passing through his eyes, "that the spell simply magnifies your needs and wants and subjugates your logic." He picked up a strand of her hair and twirled it around his finger. "Therefore, as I've said, it wasn't against your will."

He ran his eyes over her body again, and she harshly pulled the blanket over to cover herself despite the amused expression that dawned over his face at her actions.

"It's not like there's something I haven't seen yet, Hermione," he commented, earning a glare from the witch.

"For the first and the last time," she snapped, which caused him to laugh. A bit too joyfully, in her opinion, as if he saw her as being  ** _funny_**. "It's still rape, regardless of what you say," she said stubbornly through gritted teeth.

"Hermione, when both parties are willing, it cannot be considered rape."

"You placed me under a spell, Riddle."

He sighed exasperatedly. "Have you been listening, Hermione? It simply magnifies your—"

"It stops my mind from thinking," she argued.

"It doesn't stop your mind from thinking," he replied. He tilted his head. "Completely, that is."

She was about to open her mouth, but he spoke before she could.

"You can still determine between right and wrong, but you'll focus on your desires. You do remember about telling me that what we're doing might be wrong."

"I didn't say 'might.' I said it  ** _is_**  wrong," she said.

"That, is simply a matter of opinion," he answered with a shrug. "So, as you can see, you still can think." He paused for a second. "And don't you think it's about time you think about your own needs and wants instead of those of others?" he asked. "Or were you planning to become their personal guardians for the rest of your life?"

"That doesn't mean that the spell you used was moral," she pointed out. "It's still wrong."

"Nothing can be classified solely as right or wrong, Hermione," he answered.

"Except for you," she said sarcastically.

"Correct." He grinned. "For the first time tonight."

She sighed and rolled her eyes, wondering why she had even bothered to argue with him.

"'Nothing can be classified solely as right or wrong,' my arse. That would make all the Muggle drugs in society legal and moral," she muttered. "But nooo, because magic was involved, everything's alright; human thoughts did not need to be taken into consideration; and all laws should be dumped down the drain."

"Granger, you cannot possibly compare Volupta's spell to Muggle drugs," he said in disgust. "You cannot control yourself if you are exposed to Muggle drugs. However," a smug grin appeared on his face, "with Volupta's spell, if you hadn't had those needs and wants in the first place, it would not have made much of a difference. While I was holding you in my arms, you could have wanted to read and started kicking me away to run to your precious books."

Her cheeks burned.

"Volupta's spell was banned a hundred and fifty-seven years ago," she snapped.

"And I'm sure the Cruciatus Curse is a very legal spell," he replied cheerfully.

"Oh, are we going to start counting the amount of illegal spells we've thrown at people now?" Hermione asked. "Because if we do place a number on that—"

Her mouth snapped shut as flashes of memory zoomed through her mind, and she recalled the less-than-moral curses she had used on Lord Voldemort's lackeys during the final battle. The spell she had used on Marietta was not completely ...  _kind_  either. Tom, on the other hand, was not exactly snake-face yet, so she had no idea if his numbers were higher than hers. Of course, she knew he had already cast three Killing Curses, created Horcruxes, opened the Chamber of Secrets, and Cruciated his Knights, but she was not sure what his total was.

An amused expression appeared on Tom's face when she stopped abruptly.

"My, my, Hermione. Is that guilt I'm seeing on your face?" he teased as he leaned closer to her, dropped the strand of hair he was playing with, and placed a finger under her chin.

She slapped his hand away. "You're undoubtedly going to lie about it."

"I haven't exactly lied to you yet," Tom said, his face indecipherable. His lips curved into a small smile. "But I doubt you can say the same. After all,  ** _Durmstrang_**  has been known to place an abnormal amount of emphasis on the Dark Arts."

"Learning about them does not necessitate using them," she refuted, disregarding the sarcastic tone of voice he had used for her supposed former school. "Just like wanting doesn't necessarily mean taking. I might want something, but that doesn't mean I have to succumb to my desires."

"Why not?" Tom asked.

She blinked. "Pardon?"

"Why not?" he repeated himself nonchalantly. "Pushing away your desires, suppressing your emotions, thinking what other people want instead of what you want ..." A sneer briefly curled his lips into a curve. "It will only cause you to want something even more, and it will make you miserable if what you want falls into the hands of someone else."

She gaped at him. "The world doesn't just revolve around one person."

"It doesn't, but it can," he replied firmly. A dark, ambitious look flashed over his features until his eyes alighted on Hermione again. "Has your so-called selflessness worked wonders for you? Has any of your beneficiaries given their benefactor anything else other than mere words of thanks?"

"Sometimes, an appreciative, happy smile is worth it," she replied.

He laughed mockingly at her words. "An appreciative, happy smile? Tell me, Hermione: How long does their gratitude last? How long does their so-called happiness last? Forever? They will forget what you have done for them in a few days at most. Is that what you're seeking for? Mindless leeches who use you whenever the situation arises for it?"

"They are my friends," she said quietly. "Friends are supposed to help one another out without wishing for something in return. You can't place a price on everything you do. Nobody will be able—nobody will be willing to help others in a situation like that."

"Friends," he murmured, a sarcastic glint in his eyes. "They're only your friends when they need you. When they don't need you, anyone else can be a welcomed presence. No, Hermione, friends can be replaced. Who do you think is more important to Mr. Evans? You or Miss Weatherby?"

"Those are two different things. I am Harry's friend, and Ginny's his fiancée," she pointed out.

"Push comes to shove, you are expendable," Tom concluded, a triumphant smile tugging at the corner of his lips.

"Harry would never think like that. He's not like that. He's—"

This was last year all over again. She could recall the locket Horcrux saying nearly the same exact things, and the effort to push away those negative feelings was not any easier the second time around. Improper memories still managed to creep back to the surface of her brain.

She could not lie and say that she had not cared about the fact that the second task of the Triwizard tournament proved that Ron was more important than her to Harry. It truly did hurt her to some extent even though she knew that both of them were boys. That, naturally, would enable them to chat with one another with more ease. In addition, she had to serve as someone dear to Krum, and it would have been unfair for Harry to have to save two people at once. However, even with that knowledge and the amount of convincing she had done with herself, deep inside her heart, she had always known that Ron held a higher place than her in Harry's heart.

 _Oh, please. Am I really going to get jealous of Ron in this situation? This is ridiculous! I hadn't cared before, so why should I care now?_  she thought defensively, throwing away those negative feelings.

The good thing about dealing with this Tom Riddle and not the Horcrux was that this one had no idea what other memories could be used against her.

"You cannot compare different relationships like that. Perhaps I may not be the most important person in Harry's life, but I know he would never think of me as someone who's expendable. He would go lengths to save me," she finally said. "And I trust him."

"You're too naive, Hermione. You will come to learn that trust is too feeble a concept to build relationships upon because you will always be betrayed," he responded.

"You cannot possibly believe that," she said before she had time to think it over.

Of course he believed what he was saying. After all, Dumbledore had already told them about Tom Riddle's inability to trust anyone. Many of his followers would like to think that they were his friends and had his confidence, but the truth was that they had nothing of that sort. Lord Voldemort would never consider them as his friends.

"The only way you can 'trust'—"A sneer marred his features. "—someone is if you have something to hold over their heads. It's the only way to ensure that they will not double-cross you."

She ogled at him.

How could he live like that? She could not begin to fathom how he had gotten through his younger years with that train of thought. Distrusting everyone, seeing darkness in everything ... it was not the way Hermione was used to. Of course she had had her darker moments in life, such as intentionally leading Umbridge to her death—well, the miserable old bat was asking for it the moment she handed that awful quill to Harry and made him write lines. But in general, she trusted her closer friends to support her through darker times. It was what drove her to carry on when Ron had abandoned her and Harry. She did not even want to recall what the Horcrux had started to tell her the moment Ron had disappeared.

Unable to comprehend Tom's way of thinking, she threw the blankets off and marched over to the place where she had seen him throw her wand, trying her best to ignore her nudity.

"I thought you said it was the last time," he called out from the bed, causing her to shoot daggers at him again.

"Well, at least it causes you to start staring like a moron and stop making those inane comments," she sneered right back at him.

Thankfully, she found her wand sitting in front of one of the closets. With a quick wave, she was clothed again. When she turned around, she found that he, too, had robed himself with his back towards her. Her wand arm twitched again, and she was so itching to hex him for what he had done.

If he thought distracting her would make her forget, he was terribly wrong.

Yes, she might ... like him a bit too much, but that did not mean that he should have befuddled her mind and ... taken her like that.

Unfortunately, he swirled around before she could decide on which curse to use on him.

"You can't seriously tell me that you can stand other people taking what is yours," he said, raising an eyebrow.

His words took her aback, and for a moment, the image of Iris hanging onto Tom flashed through her mind, but she quickly shook it away.

Tom Marvolo Riddle was definitely  ** _not_**  hers.

"I'm not your property," she growled, her previous anger at him flaring up again. "And I refuse to be treated like it."

Instead of getting infuriated by her words like she thought he would, however, his face solidified into that impassive mask again.

"Get this into your mind, Hermione," he said quietly. "You belong to me, and as I've told you, I will always claim what is mine."

She let out an irritated sigh and rolled her eyes.

"Su-ure! Why don't we just all flag someone and declare that they're our property?" she asked sarcastically. "The world doesn't work like that, Riddle. Every individual has their own will, and that can't be overridden by a simple command on your part. If you thought that raping me would mark me as yours, you're incredibly wrong. I still belong to myself and can think for myself."

"Are you still going on about it being rape?" he questioned her in an annoyed voice. "Do I really need to repeat myself so many times? It's—"

"I know what the properties of Volupta's spell are. There's a reason why it's illegal, Riddle. Not everyone appreciates not being in control of themselves. Do I really need to grab a dictionary and show you the meaning of rape?" she mocked him, using the same tone of voice he had used. "Using the spell  ** _means_** that this was forced."

With that she walked towards the door, but he grabbed her arm, preventing her from leaving. She gritted her teeth, and a thought flashed through her mind. The moment he swirled her around, she aimed and scored.

With satisfaction, she grinned as he crashed down on the floor with a groan, his hands covering his groin.

"Thank you for your enlightening speech, Riddle. I really do feel a bit better now that I haven't—what were the exact words you used again?—pushed away my desires, suppressed my emotions, and thought about what others needed instead of what I wanted. Hope you're enjoying yourself now," she taunted.

She turned towards the door and stared at it, glad that the idiotic Dark Lord was still on the floor in pain. She honestly hoped the spell he had used on the door was not the one he had used on the classroom doors.

" _Alohomora_ ," she muttered and rejoiced when she heard a "click."

Apparently, he had used the more complicated spell on the classroom doors just in case one of the professors was to run in on them. However, here in the dungeons, where he held a permanent stronghold over his dorm-mates, he did not have to worry about that. The other Slytherins would not dare to barge in on him when he had the door locked.

Except for the "innocent, little lioness" he pulled into his room, that was. It was a bit silly of him, really. Did he think that she would not try to use the simple unlocking spell because it had not worked the first few times?

She grabbed the doorknob and exited the room. Quickly, she made her way downstairs, hoping to reach the Gryffindor tower before Tom recovered enough to hunt her down.

The voices stopped when she reached the bottom of the staircase, and she froze in her steps.

Iris's shocked face was quickly replaced with something more, to a venomous expression of a viper ready to strike. Gerbasios Goyle and Makedon Crabbe both had their jaws slightly open at a Gryffindor witch walking out of their dormitory and had not recovered yet. Dolohov looked like he had just seen Dumbledore, dressed up in a can-can attire, prance by in front of him. With some relief, Hermione realized that Draco was, indeed, still alive, although he was staring at her with worry and shock apparent on his face.

_Merlin's pants._

Of course, dinnertime had just passed, and the rest of the remaining Slytherins would be in their common room. She had forgotten that this was the Slytherin common room and not the Gryffindor common room, the latter of which "more than one person in the room" meant rowdiness. It appeared that the Slytherins were not as loud of a group as the Gryffindors when they were in their living quarters.

Suddenly, one of the younger year students sitting in the corner of the room snapped back to his senses and whistled loudly while another leered at her.

She suddenly really, really wished that the floor beneath her would just open up and swallow her whole.

~-0-~

Hermione had no idea how she made it back to the Gryffindor common room, but she somehow managed it. Harry and Ginny immediately asked her why she had gone missing during dinner. As much as she wanted to just tell them everything and get it over and done with, she knew that this was not the time to do so. She was in no mood for questioning sessions, and she would definitely give away her anger while they were talking to her. Therefore, with some difficulty, she murmured something about extra homework and escaped back to her dorm. Perhaps scared off by the way she stomped up the staircase, neither Harry nor Ginny attempted to follow her.

That made her slightly relieved—finally something that was positive about her topsy-turvy night. She did not want them to be involved with what was happening, nor did she want to use them to vent out her anger. They were not the source of her fury.

Tom Marvolo sodding Riddle was.

The nerve of that insipid, brainless, egotistical, annoying, pompous prat, using that spell on her and taking her by force!

It was a good thing she was not some other witch who would just lie down and take his crap. No, she was glad she had given him his "Christmas present" and hoped he had fun with it for as long as it lasted. The image of him on the floor in pain elicited a soft giggle from her. Well, he was asking for it, so he could not possibly blame her for her actions.

He would probably still hold a grudge against her ... but he did rape her.

And then, of course, he had the audacity to go on and on about how it was not rape. She would have to remember to bring a dictionary the next time she saw him so she could show him precisely what the meaning of that word was since he was obviously having major difficulties in understanding it.

 _And he is supposedly the most intelligent student to walk the hallways of Hogwarts_ , she scoffed in her mind.

Grudgingly, she had to admit that he was, indeed, clever. She had never met someone as intelligent as he was. Try as she might, she could not recall a Charms class where he could not get a spell with one try. It never happened. It was almost as if he were born to cast magic. And then, there were those Ancient Runes classes where he would challenge Professor Babbling's theories and words and win those debates. She could not deny that it was difficult to pull her eyes away from him when he was talking about something he was passionate about. If he were not so intent on gathering students to become his Death Eaters and became a professor in Hogwarts instead, she could only imagine how intricately interesting his classes would be.

She made a face at herself. Well ... yes ... he was intelligent, something which made him rather ... attractive, and she probably did have more feelings for him than she should, but that did not mean that she was ready to give herself to him. Not to mention the fact that she had ... "broken up" with him yesterday. Or was that the precise thing that prompted him to do that?

She rolled her eyes. That still did not give him a good reason. Just because he probably knew that she liked him did not give him the right to cast a spell on her to make her stop thinking.

She placed a hand on her forehead and sighed. This was not supposed to happen. If only she had been a bit more resistant to him ... No, that probably would have made him even more persistent in his pursuit.

Nobody should say “no” to He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named.

A snort escaped her mouth. Lord Voldemort would get more than a kick in the groin if he thought that she was another one of his brainless followers. When she said "no," she meant it, and no curse or spell would make her think otherwise.

" _...with Volupta's spell, if you hadn't had those needs and wants in the first place, it would not have made much of a difference. While I was holding you in my arms, you could have wanted to read and started kicking me away to run to your precious books."_

Oh great. Now his words were haunting her, too, as if it were not enough that he was already pestering her in person.

As she stared at the canopy hanging above her bed, tidbits of what happened leaked past her anger and replayed themselves in her mind's eye. Although she had been under the spell, she had been aware of everything. The images ran through her mind, and a furious blush burned her cheeks as she remembered his touches, his kisses, and his smooth voice speaking in Parseltongue.

A shiver ran down her spine, and she shook her head, unwilling to let her guards down and allow the wrong feelings and emotions to run wild. She was, after all, still very angry at him and not ready to forgive him.

Climbing out of bed, she headed over to the bathroom, and as the hot water splashed down, she scrubbed her body vehemently, determined to scrub away any lasting traces of his touch on her.

She was definitely not going to forgive him anytime soon.

~-0-~

The night came and went a bit too slowly for Hermione. She could not sleep. Tom's words, as insane as they were, kept repeating themselves whenever she was about to fall asleep, much to her dismay. Either that or the ...  ** _other_**  memories of what happened in his room. Burying them took too much time. Therefore, she was quite cranky and tired when the morning sun peeked over the horizon and announced the beginning of a new day.

She should have known that her restless night was a premonition, a bad omen. However, it was not until she walked downstairs to the Gryffindor common room that she realized the extent of trouble she would have to go through: Harry and Ginny were sitting in front of the fireplace, but they were not the only ones.

Sitting across from them was a very worried and anxious looking Draco Malfoy.

~-0-~

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **A/N** : Many thanks to my wonderful betas, LSMerlot wnd Nerys! 


	28. Chapter 28

**Chapter 28**

Three months ago, she would have rolled her eyes if someone were to tell her that she would travel more than fifty years back into the past. Two months ago, she would have been more than happy with the scene of Harry and Draco sitting in one place without biting each other's heads off. A month ago, she would have been sure of herself when she said she had nothing to hide from her friends.

Standing at the bottom of the staircase leading to the Gryffindor girls' dormitory right now, at this moment, however, everything simply felt surreal to Hermione Jean Granger.

At the sound of footsteps, the three sitting in front of the fireplace had already turned their heads towards her. On top of Draco's anxious expression, the worry on Harry's face made her feel repentant and apprehensive. Ginny's look of horror and restlessness upped the guilt Hermione was feeling.

The moment they saw her, Harry stood up.

"You were in  ** _his_**  dorm last night? Alone?" he immediately demanded.

His voice mirrored the franticness on his face and made her stop in her stride.

"Er ..."

She twisted her hands around in her pockets, her mind quickly picking and choosing what to say to her friends. Before she could decide, Draco stalked up to her, grabbed her left arm, and pulled up the sleeve.

"What the—"

Noticeable relief washed over his face. Before she could finish her question, Draco quickly cut in as he dropped her arm, "What happened up there? The other people didn't see you come in, so you must have gone into his room before they came back."

The alarm on Ginny's face was even more pronounced with Draco's words; it was obvious he had not gotten the chance to tell them everything before Hermione came down.

"Did he Cruciate you?" Ginny immediately asked, her brown orbs filled with concern as she, too, stood up.

Hermione bit into her lower lip. Well, it was not the first time they had heard about Lord Voldemort torturing someone, so it should not be too big of a deal, right?

Wrong.

The moment she nodded, Harry's hand flew to the pocket which most likely held his wand; his head twitched slightly towards the portrait hole, almost as if he were trying to decide if he should hunt down Tom immediately. Profanities left Draco's mouth, and in other situations, Hermione might have found it amusing how creative he could be. Ginny shut her eyes with suppressed anger, and her body was visibly shaking.

"No—wait—I mean—" Hermione closed her eyes and took a deep breath.

 _Great job, Granger_ , a voice resounded in the back of her head. It sounded suspiciously like Tom's voice, but she pushed it away; it was not the time now to think of twenty different ways to banish the Dark Lord's voice from her head.

"I Cruciated him back," she quickly said, hoping it would calm them down. However, the outcome was the complete opposite of what she had wished for.

"You  ** _what_**?" Draco was the first person to speak up. "You've got to be joking—"

Ginny shook her head from side to side, her eyes wide open again and staring at her as if doom's day were here.

"It's not going to work, Hermione—It's not even funny—Cruciating Voldemort—" Harry muttered, ignoring Draco's wince at the name. "If you think I would believe that, which I don't—"

"Are you  ** _insane_** , Granger?" Draco asked at the same time. "Do you know what you're doing? You're going to put all of us in danger! You  ** _Cruciated_**  the  ** _Dark Lord_**?"

"He would never take that lying down ... He's going to want vengeance ... Oh, Hermione ... What are we going to do ... What are  ** _you_**  going to do ..." Ginny whispered.

Hermione swallowed. She should have realized in advance that they were going to be fretting about what happened, but rather than letting them know about what really happened, this was perhaps a better alternative.

"Well, as you know ... he did Cruciate me ... and then Draco was on the floor ... I didn't know if he were dead or not, and I was really angry about Tom threatening to harm those around me ..." she explained.

"Who cares if—" Harry stopped in his words.

Hermione suspected he was about to say something along the lines of: "Who cares if ferrets were tortured?" Thankfully, he had enough sense to stop himself.

"Good Salazar ... She Cruciated the Dark Lord ... She Cruciated the Dark Lord ... He's going to kill me ... He's going to kill me ... He's going to kill  ** _us_**  ..." Draco murmured on the side. He obviously was not concentrating on what Harry was saying.

"Why—How did you end up in the Slytherin common room?" Harry asked.

"I ... er ... confronted him about what happened to Draco," Hermione admitted.

Harry bit into his lower lip, and his eyes were on Draco, obviously holding back an assessment.

"You're mental, Hermione. As if he's going to listen to you if you reprimand him," Draco spoke up instead.

"Why didn't you go to a professor?" Ginny inquired, her eyes still filled with fear for the safety of Hermione.

"Dumbledore's bound to be the only one who would believe me," Hermione sighed. "Without him here, the other professors will just believe in whatever Tom tells them. Plus, what if they thought I was the one who tried to attack him? We've told them that we were from Durmstrang, and that school was known for their loose policy when it came to the Dark Arts."

She could tell that they agreed with her from their lack of responses and deepening frowns. She just hoped that none of them would attempt to pull some kind of stunt to avenge her. Although, the way she saw it now, she probably had to watch out for her own anger rather than the other three's temper.

"You can't tell me you stayed in there for more than an hour and just chatted afterwards," Draco said after a moment of tensed silence.

"Did he ask you anything?" Harry asked.

Draco rolled his eyes. "No, he didn't, Evans. He simply sat there and stared at Hermione's magnificent, all-awing beauty. A little more common sense here, please?"

Harry gave him a dirty look and turned back to Hermione. "Did you tell him anything from the future?"

Draco gave out an irritated noise and plopped down on one of the armchairs again. "Pothead, look at whom you're talking to. It's  ** _Hermione Granger_**. Does it look like she'd let something that important slip?"

"We don't know if he knows Legilimency yet," Harry argued.

"I doubt he would lock Hermione up just to use Legilimency on her," Draco replied, casting a meaningful look towards Hermione. "He was questioning me about your boyfriends, Granger."

Harry stared at her wide eyed. " ** _What_**?"

For some inexplicable reason, Ginny seemed to be thoughtful rather than surprised. Hermione wondered what was going through her mind right now, but there were no ways for her to find out immediately without raising the suspicions of the other two.

"He thought—" Draco snorted. "—that I fancied you."

Harry laughed humorlessly. "Yes, because I'm sure calling her foul names is a way of showing affections."

"Evans, I haven't called her a Mud—that name for weeks already," Draco replied. "I think he's trying to narrow down on who might be the 'boyfriend' Hermione had so graciously told everyone about a few weeks ago." He studied Hermione again. "I knew the Dark Lord had eye problems the moment he thought that it was a good idea to target Scarface instead of attacking the bigger fish, like Dumbledore."

Hermione ignored his jab at her looks again, though Harry and Ginny both threw angry looks at Draco.

"Was that why you were—" Hermione paused in her words, not sure how she should continue.

"Lying on the floor like I was a victim at a murder scene?" Draco finished dryly for her. "Yes."

A blush appeared on his face presumably because he had to admit the embarrassment he had to endure last night.

"Did  ** _you_**  let anything slip?" Harry demanded.

Suspiciously, Draco remained silent, and anxiety began to build in Hermione.

"You did, didn't you?" Harry accused.

"No—wait—I didn't let **_important_** stuff slip," Draco defended himself. He shifted his eyes from left to right continually as if he were trying to decide what to say. "I—I just—"

"What did you tell him?" Hermione asked.

"Well ... er ... I told him that Weasel King and Krum were the only ones who liked Granger," he said. When he saw Hermione open her mouth, he quickly added, "But they aren't even here, the both of them. There's no way that maniac's going to harm Weasley and Krum."

"Hasn't it occurred to you that he could harm the ancestors of the 'both of them'? You could very well be preventing the birth of two people!" Hermione screeched.

"Wait—No, I told him the Weasley we knew back home wasn't related to Gareth. It's not really a lie, so even if he knew Legilimency, it wouldn't matter. After all, we don't really know if Gareth's related to her or not," Draco replied, nodding towards Ginny.

"I've never heard of a Great-Uncle Gareth," she conceded.

"Did you tell him anything else?" Hermione asked, still very much annoyed about what Draco had disclosed.

"Uh ..." Draco mumbled. He then said something under his breath that none of them caught.

"A bit louder so that humans can hear you?" Harry commented sardonically.

"He ... might know that Hermione isn't a pure-blood now," Draco said quickly. "I swear it wasn't my fault. He kept going on about how I must be fancying her, and Father's face ... just appeared out of nowhere in front of me ... and I just blurted it out. I swear I didn't do it on purpose, Hermione."

The reactions of the remaining three people in the room were on the extremes. Harry and Ginny both started berating Draco for letting Tom know information that might potentially harm Hermione. “The victim” herself, however, was quietly contemplating to herself.

 _He did speculate that I was definitely not a pure-blood_ , she thought, recalling their conversation in the classroom on the day of Slughorn's party.

"Wait, wait!" Draco yelled again. "Look, if Riddle's taken a liking of Hermione, wouldn't it be better for him to know that she's not a pure-blood? It would stop him from pursuing her!" In a smaller voice, he muttered something that suspiciously sounded like, "And he would stop thinking that I'm her boyfriend and stop Cruciating me."

Harry and Ginny both abruptly halted in their rant.

"He's so adamant about making everyone see his ways that if he really wants to get married or something, it will most likely be a pure-blood," Draco reasoned when they did not say anything.

Unconsciously, Hermione's hands tightened into fists, and she was more than glad that they were hidden away from view by the wide sleeves of her robes.

Draco frowned. "Though, of course, I've always thought it was weird that the Dark Lord hadn't gotten married with Aunt Bella. I mean, it was obvious how crazy she was about him."

A tiny smile appeared on Hermione's face before she straightened her expression again.

 _I'm still angry at him. I'm still angry at him. I'm still angry at him_ , she repeated in her mind.

"And they do make a good pair with one another. Their craziness levels are almost the same," Harry added.

Hermione resisted the urge to glare at Harry, hating the fact that he had chosen this moment to be in perfect agreement with Draco.

"Can you imagine if they had babies together?" Draco scrunched up his nose.

"Ew, Malloy," Harry and Ginny complained together.

"Although, yeah, I suppose he doesn't like kids, seeing that he aimed his wand at you when you were only one," Draco snorted, addressing Harry.

The three of them shared a small laugh, oblivious to how annoyed Hermione was.

"Not funny, Malloy," Ginny commented, although a grin was still plastered to her face.

"Eh ... you still laughed," Draco said with a shrug. He then glanced at Hermione. "You do remember what I told you last time, don't you?"

The question was so sudden that it took Hermione aback, and a moment passed before she nodded.

"And you still found it safe to be in the same room as him," Draco muttered, slapping his hand against his forehead.

"Well, he has good reason to believe that Hermione's a half-blood," Ginny spoke up for her. "After all, since we're supposedly from Durmstrang, the chances of her being a Muggle-born are a lot lower."

"Let's hope he doesn't open up the Chamber of Secrets again then, shall we?" Draco remarked sarcastically, not noticing how Ginny slightly blanched. "As far as we know, that thing knows how to detect Muggle-borns." A frown appeared on his face. "But then again, he doesn't believe we're from Durmstrang, so what's stopping him from speculating that she might be a Muggle-born?"

"He's probably thinking that with Hermione's intelligence, she couldn't possibly be a Muggle-born. He himself was a half-blood," Harry analyzed.

"True. She's still alive after spending so much time locked up in his room, after all," Draco concluded. He glanced at Harry and Ginny. "The two of you are awfully calm hearing about Riddle being interested in Hermione."

Harry shrugged. "Riddle's been having an interest in Hermione for quite a long time already. I suspect he had gotten curious about her because of the debates in class and everything." He paused for a second. "The real question is what should we do now? We can't have him cornering Hermione when she's alone."

"And me," Draco spoke up.

"You live in the same dorm as him, Malloy," Harry replied, rolling his eyes. "Not so proud to be a Slytherin anymore now, are you?"

"It has nothing to do with what House I am in," Draco objected. "It wouldn't have been a problem without Riddle in there."

"You're free to move to our dorm," Harry answered, much to everyone's surprise. "But Hermione will have to Transfigure you into a ferret first. We can always pretend that we have a pet ferret."

"Are you serious?" Draco asked as if he were truly considering the option.

"And have another traitorous pet? We've already had a rat once, Malloy. We don't need history to repeat itself," Ginny said, rolling her eyes.

"What? I'm not traitorous!" Draco protested.

"Says he who had betrayed You-Know-Who in the last battle," spoke Ginny sarcastically.

"That was because he was blackmailing me with my parents," Draco argued.

"Yeah, yeah. That's what all Malfoys say after You-Know-Who falls. Can't use the Imperius Curse as the reason this time, can you?" Ginny teased.

Redness tinged Draco's cheeks, and he huffed. "Look, I didn't say anything of too much importance this time, did I?"

"Who knows?" Ginny answered.

"Hermione saw me on the floor!"

"Why did he let you go? I mean, he had you locked up in his dorm," Harry asked, turning towards Hermione and successfully stopping Ginny and Draco in their bantering.

"He didn't plan to," Hermione admitted a little hesitantly.

"What? Then, how did you get out of there?" Harry questioned her frantically.

"Well ... uh ..." She frowned, wondering if it were a good idea to disclose this last bit. "Ikneedhimdownthere."

"Huh?" Both Draco and Harry scrunched up their faces, not comprehending her words.

Ginny, however, obviously did because her freckles were now even more apparent on her ashen face.

Hermione took a deep breath and, looking at each one in turn, repeated herself. Sure enough, the three of them remained silent. Hermione swore she could hear a pin drop. Draco's face was contorted as if he were afraid and were holding back his laughter at the same time. Ginny's eyes were closed again, but Hermione was pretty sure it was not from anger this time; she seemed more like she was about to faint. Harry's eyes were the size of Galleons, and his mouth hung slightly open.

Then, a second uproar occurred, although this time their worries were a lot less convincing with both Harry and Draco doing their best to suppress their laughter.

"You  ** _are_**  insane, Granger. Very, very insane. I'm sure about it now. If they had an extra cell next to Aunt Bella's in Azkaban, they would surely reserve it for the day you broke down like her," Draco commented, his voice cracking at certain syllables.

Hermione suddenly felt extremely annoyed that she was being compared to that person who hero-worshipped Tom. No, it was definitely not because of jealousy from last night. And who had ever said she was jealous in the first place?

"You're going to get killed, Hermione. He is so going to kill you for that," Harry chortled, trying to sound serious but failing miserably.

Harry and Draco shared a look, and they both collapsed and started roaring with laughter. Even Ginny seemed to have recovered from her initial shock and now had a grin tugging at the corner of her lips. After she took a look at the still guffawing boys on the couch, she inconspicuously moved towards Hermione.

"Those weren't the only things that happened, were they?" she asked softly.

Hermione ogled at her. Quickly, she mentally weighed the pros and cons of letting Ginny know about what really happened. Then, she made her decision on the spot.

"Later," she whispered, genuine promise lingering in her eyes.

Ginny gave her a soft smile and quick nod.

"Do you reckon that's the reason why he never had any ... uh ... urges towards women?" Harry asked when he calmed down enough to do so, looking at Draco.

"Well, Aunt Bella was certainly all over him," the latter tittered.

Hermione's eyes flashed, and she subconsciously tuned in on their conversation.

"That's expected. But no reactions from the 'great' Dark Lord, eh?" Harry chuckled.

The two young men took another look at one another and roared in laughter again.

"No wonder he hated Muggle-borns," Draco commented, gasping in between each word. "He remembered you, Hermione. You've made him ..."

Harry and he broke down again with renewed mirth, much to Hermione's renewed annoyance. A soft squeeze reminded her that Ginny was standing next to her. She turned her head slightly, and Ginny gave her a supporting smile.

It took a while, but after the boys finally settled down, Harry reiterated his concern about each individual's safety.

"If we stick together, he won't be able to corner and force answers out of us—"

"You're nutters, Evans. How are you going to prevent Hermione from being alone? Are you going to try to stop Granger from going to the library again? Or do you plan to spend whatever free time you have in there with her?" Draco pointed out.

"Hermione objected last time because last night hadn't happened yet," Harry argued.

"You're not stopping me from going to the library," Hermione said firmly.

"Hermione—" Harry protested.

"Listen, Harry. Madam Pince is in there. He's not going to start throwing Unforgivables at me right in the middle of the library," Hermione reminded him.

"But—"

"Oy, Evans," Draco called out, an impish grin on his face. "You don't have to worry about Hermione being by herself. You should be happy if he catches her like that."

Harry stared at him with a frown. "What are you talking about? How—"

"No, no, Evans," Draco cut in. "If he catches her alone again, she can knee him  ** _there_**  again."

Harry looked stunned for a moment, and then both of them started howling again.

"Boys," Hermione muttered, shaking her head when she realized they were not going to stop laughing anytime soon.

Ginny smiled and whispered, "Do you want to talk about it now? We can go to my room or yours."

Hermione nibbled on her lower lip and nodded.

"We're going upstairs. Please do holler when you're finished being immature," Ginny announced, throwing a pillow at each of the boys who could not stop laughing.

The two of them were not sure if Harry and Draco had heard them, but moments later, the girls arrived in Hermione's dorm.

"I'm all ears," Ginny promised as she sat cross-legged on Hermione’s bed.

Hermione had thought that it would be hard to tell Ginny everything. However, the moment she started talking, everything started tumbling out of her mouth: Why she had gotten detention ... the rumors about her fancying Riddle ... their debates in class ... Tom saving her from those nasty attacks by those Slytherin banshees ... Tom assisting her in their classes ... what happened during Hunting Day ... their encounter in the Potions classroom ... the Slughorn party and their disappearance from said party ... the cloud incident and what she had done for vengeance ... her breaking up with Tom ... what happened last night ...

As she had promised, Ginny remained silent throughout Hermione's entire monologue, only speaking up to ask questions when something was not clear to her.

When Hermione was finally finished, she took a deep breath and glanced at Ginny, a bit fearful that she might see some form of condemnation in the latter's eyes. A sense of relief washed over her when she found thoughtfulness and understanding instead.

"And I can't tell Harry and Draco ... especially Harry," Hermione added.

"No, you definitely can't tell Harry," Ginny agreed. "He'd definitely do something drastic if he were to know about what happened." She slightly frowned. "But do you really think of it as rape?"

"What ... do you mean?" Hermione asked. "Of course it is. He used a spell on me, Ginny."

Ginny nodded. "Yes, I heard you the first time." She pushed herself forward and took both of Hermione's hands in hers. "But, Hermione, would you have held yourself back if he were not You-Know-Who?"

"Of course," Hermione replied immediately, although her answer was not as firm as it should have been.

Ginny stared at her with both eyebrows raised. "Liar."

"I'm not lying," Hermione protested.

"Yes, you are, Hermione," Ginny declared, releasing Hermione's hand and crossing her arms in front of her chest.

"I may be attracted to him ..."

"Which is perfectly understandable," Ginny agreed with a nod of her head. "He can be charming when he chooses to be."

"But that doesn't mean that I wanted to ... well ..." Hermione stopped in her words as the images of what happened last night flashed through her mind again, causing her cheeks to flush red.

"It's obvious that the only reason you stopped yourself was because you know who he was, who he is, and who he will become, and you feel guilty about the whole thing. You feel guilty that you're attracted to him, and that's not very healthy for you," Ginny pointed out. "You're deluding yourself, and that spell was probably the only way Tom could've broken through that huge wall you've constructed in front of yourself."

"Oh, so you're taking his side now?" Hermione snapped.

"Of course not," Ginny denied her accusations. "Why would I? But it's not helping you at all if you keep forcing yourself into a corner and trying to shut out your emotions. Besides, you really, really shouldn't use the term 'rape' so easily because ... it can be a bit offensive to people who really were raped. In your case ... I really don't think you were that repulsed by him touching you. You were perfectly comfortable around him afterwards. Rape victims just don't ... react like that, Hermione. And you were fine when Draco touched you in the common room."

"But—I—" Hermione stuttered.

"You do remember Padma, Parvati's twin sister in Ravenclaw, don't you?" Ginny suddenly asked. She continued when Hermione nodded, "She was ... During the year the Death Eaters took over, she got ... raped by Amycus Carrow."

"What?" Hermione screeched. "No."

Ginny nodded. "Padma ... Lavender told me that it was because Padma couldn't bring herself to cast an Unforgivable. I think Carrow had been waiting for an opportunity anyway. He would have found some other reason even if she  ** _could_**  cast that Cruciatus Curse, but ... after that day, she couldn't bear any of the boys touching her. She would start cringing away, or in some extreme cases, she would start screaming."

Hermione fell silent, anger boiling up upon hearing that such a fate had befallen one of her classmates. She was so going to get Carrow when she returned to the future. He had better start praying that he would be dead before she arrived at the door of his cell in Azkaban.

"Hermione," Ginny called out softly, catching her attention. "You know that it's impossible for me to be completely supportive of this relationship, but the way you're going about it now, you're going to hurt yourself. And you do know ... it is easier for  ** _him_**  to manipulate you if you keep trying to bury away your emotions. Once you face your emotions, you can stand up to him a lot better and cut things off a lot easier. Running away from it will only make things even more complicated and make your feelings for him even stronger. It ... happened to me with the journal incident. He wouldn't have been able to manipulate me if I had dared to face my fears and emotions for Harry."

" _Pushing away your desires, suppressing your emotions, thinking what other people want instead of what you want ... It will only cause you to want something even more, and it will make you miserable if what you want falls into the hands of someone else."_

She blinked, thoroughly annoyed at her memory for remembering every syllable he had spoken. As if it were not enough that his actions had bored her sticky consequences, his words had to add fuel to the flame by continuously resounding in her ears and driving her to the kingdom of the insane. She would definitely need a Tom exorcism if this continued.

"Have you thought about what to do with Tom?" Ginny asked after a moment of allowing Hermione to think to herself.

"What do you mean?"

Ginny snickered. "Hermione, you are so bloody intelligent in other cases, but when it comes to relationships ..." She shook her head and clarified, "Have you thought about how to prevent Tom from telling Harry and Draco about what happened? It's too good of a chance for him to taunt the two of them."

 _Shit_ , Hermione thought. She had been so engrossed in other things that she had forgotten the biggest problem of all.

"I'll have to speak with him," Hermione said quietly.

"He's not going to listen," Ginny predicted with a frown, "unless he's getting something out of it." She chuckled. "And he's not going to give you another chance to knee him."

"Not you, too, Ginny," Hermione groaned.

"It's not every day you get to imagine You-Know-Who in pain," Ginny said with a grin. "And throwing Cruciatus Curses at him ... I don't know if I should call you reckless or cheer for your braveness." She paused. "I'll go with you to talk with him. If anything, there are the two of us."

"But Ginny ... you ..." Hermione bit her lower lip.

It was no secret that Ginny still felt uneasy around Tom. Standing within close proximity of him would undoubtedly unsettle her.

"You're my friend, and I should support you in whatever way I can," Ginny interrupted her firmly. She tilted her head. "I might be frightened of him, but I'm not going to let him harm my friend. Not anymore."

A small smile appeared on Hermione's face, and once again, she could not be gladder that she had decided to tell Ginny Weasley what had happened.

However, while they were walking out of the dorm, Hermione contemplated on how to dissuade Ginny from going with her. After all, the last thing she wanted to do was to pull her friends into the mess she was in.

~-0-~

When the two of them walked down the staircase, they had no idea if they should be more surprised about the fact that Harry and Draco had not ripped one another's heads off or annoyed that the two boys were still laughing and making knee jokes.

Hermione and Ginny shared an exasperated look with one another, and each of them grabbed a boy and made their way to the Great Hall.

Breakfast was awkward, to say the least. Hermione had no idea if she should be happy or annoyed by the fact that Tom had not bothered to spare a glance her way when she entered the room. Iris, on the other hand, made a point to stick even closer to Tom, nearly perching herself on top of his knees.

"That cow should be glad that wish magic is such an uncommon occurrence in older witches and wizards," Ginny whispered in Hermione's ear, causing the latter to lower her glare and blush.

"She could drown in the lake for all I care," Hermione muttered.

"As long as she's not trying to bewitch Tom," Ginny teased.

"Ginny," Hermione hissed, causing Ginny to giggle.

Thankfully, the two young men were still joking under their breaths and so did not hear the conversation between the girls. Nevertheless, by the time they sat down, Hermione was no longer sure if she wanted a truce between Draco and Harry or not. At least she did not have to put up with their tasteless jokes when they were still at one another's necks. Therefore, for the first time, she sat down next to Ginny, and Harry sat down next to Draco. The former nemeses did not even notice the peculiarity of the seating arrangements as they continued chatting with one another.

Strangely enough, Alphard was nowhere in sight, so Hermione asked Ginny his whereabouts.

"He's probably still at the Quidditch Pitch. He asked us if we wanted to go this morning, but you know what happened," Ginny answered, nodding her head towards Draco.

"You should have persuaded Hermione to stand in front of you during that final battle, Evans. You-Know-Who would have dropped his wand immediately—" Draco was whispering.

"—and run the other way with his hands covering parts that might get kneed again," Harry finished, and the two of them got immersed in muffled laughs again.

Hermione sighed, realizing that this was going to be a common occurrence from now on. Therefore, she tried her best to tune out their voices while she scooped some potatoes onto her plate.

"You might want to catch him right after breakfast," Ginny suggested in a low voice. "The earlier you confront him, the less of a chance he will get to talk to those two morons sitting across from us."

Hermione nodded, realizing that that was probably the best for the current situation. However, she still had not thought of a way to make Ginny not go with her.

"Hermione, Hermione!" Draco hissed.

She turned her head and looked at Moron Number One.

"Can we get front row tickets next time?" Moron Number Two joked.

"No," Hermione deadpanned.

"Aw, come on, Hermione," Harry pleaded.

"Grow up," she snapped.

The two of them then stared at her, as if they were insulted by her comment, before they started whispering to one another again, presumably plotting on how to get her to knee Tom again while they were present. Hermione concentrated on eating, deciding that she should ignore them, and then maybe, just maybe, they would learn to stop irritating her with their stupid jokes.

It was easier said than done. By the end of the meal, Hermione contemplated on throwing the plates and goblets on the table at the two of them to shut them up for a moment.

"He's leaving," Ginny said quietly, and Hermione's eyes flew over to the other end of the table.

Tom was standing up from his seat, his eyes on Dolohov as the Knight told him something. After a frown appeared shortly on his forehead, he gave a swift nod and said something in return.

Hermione turned around and gave Ginny a nod. They had decided while they were walking down from the girls' dorms that it was better to ambush Tom in one of the corridors rather than follow after him. They did not need the rest of the school thinking that they were following Tom around.

Before they could tell Harry and Draco that they were leaving first, however, a voice called out to them.

"Mr. Evans, Miss Weatherby!"

The four of them turned their heads and found Professor Nostredame striding up to them.

"Please meet me in my office. We need to discuss the assignments that must be covered in order for the two of you to catch up with the rest of your classmates," he addressed Harry and Ginny.

With a short nod, he exited the Great Hall.

"Uh ... I thought that was the Head of our House's job," Harry spoke up.

"Dumbledore's not here right now, so Professor Nostredame is the substitute Head for the time being," Hermione explained, relieved that Ginny could not follow her now.

"But what about Hermione? We can't leave her by herself," Harry said, still wary about the safety of his friend.

"I doubt he's going to Cruciate her in the middle of the hallways. As long as she sticks to the library and the common room, he's not going to risk his reputation," Draco muttered.

Harry cast an unsure look towards Hermione and continued listing the reasons why he should not leave Hermione alone.

"Harry, stop worrying so much already. I'll be fine. Professor Nostredame is waiting for you, and you can't leave a professor waiting like that," Hermione reprimanded, cutting him off.

"But—"

"I'll be fine, Harry," Hermione repeated herself for what seemed like the twentieth time that day.

After a bit of internal struggling, Harry finally nodded. "But please don't confront him by yourself, Hermione. He's ... dangerous, far too dangerous for his age already."

"I know, I know," Hermione promised offhandedly, trying to keep her eyes from leaving Draco's face when she noticed Tom walk out of the Great Hall with Iris following after him like a sick puppy.

She had better hurry and get Draco to leave her side if she wanted to catch up with Tom.

"Wait for me," Ginny murmured before she walked away with Harry.

Hermione turned around to look at Draco, who raised an eyebrow at her.

"Going to the library again, I suppose?" he asked.

"Yes. I still need to finish my Astronomy paper," she lied. "Have you finished it yet?"

"Eh ... we still have two weeks before it's due," Draco said, shifting his weight from one foot to another.

"Draco," she reprimanded.

"I think I'll go to the Room of Requirement to get some sleep. I doubt I can get a normal sleeping schedule now that you've attacked  ** _him_**  like that," Draco replied, rejecting her before she got the chance to invite him to go to the library with her.

"It's better to get something done earlier, Draco. If you wait until the last minute—" Hermione started to say, knowing that it would sound suspicious if she did not try to persuade him.

"I'm not, I'm not," Draco cut in, waving his hands. "I'll get it done after I get a bit more rest. Have fun in the library, and make sure you're always in Madam Pince's line of sight."

The unconscious tone of care in his voice nearly made Hermione smile, and for a moment, she allowed herself to be happy about the fact that she had insisted on looking after him. They then parted ways, and Hermione waited until she could no longer see Draco's silhouette before she headed down the way she had seen Tom walk.

A few hallways down, and her irritation began to build since Tom was nowhere in sight. She was about to give up when voices could be heard around the corner.

"—Father absolutely adores you, Tom. I can already see Mum treating you like a second son."

Hermione tiptoed over to the edge and looked around the corner. Standing in the corridor was, much to her relief, Tom. Unfortunately, Iris was standing in there, holding onto his hand.

"I'm afraid that I will have to decline, Iris. When we leave school this year, I believe that it will be prudent for me to first find a suitable career," Tom replied.

 _As a future Dark Lord and where the employees have to pay the employers instead_ , Hermione thought sarcastically in her mind while imagining Iris's hand on fire.

There were no doubts in her mind that the Malfoys must have had to "share" their Gringotts vault with He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named.

"Father knows a lot of people in the Ministry. He can definitely—"

"If I had wanted to get into politics, Iris, I would've taken up Abraxas's offer last year," Tom interrupted her. "Now, if that was all you wanted to talk to me about ..."

"Tom, you don't understand, Granger—"

"What does all of this have to do with Granger?" Tom asked sharply.

His tone of voice must have frightened Iris since she took a step back, causing a grin to appear on Hermione's face.

 _What? Afraid of your dearest Tom, Parkinson?_  she leered in her mind, still annoyed that Iris had not dropped Tom's hand in the process of moving away.

A second later, Iris moved closer to him again. Hermione's eyes narrowed when she noticed that this time Iris was a lot closer to him than she previously was.

"Regardless of what she says, I can assure you that Father never heard of a Granger in the Ministry. She cannot help you. She—"

"Iris, I might be mistaken, but are you suggesting that I might have been befuddled by her?" Tom asked, amusement laced throughout his words.

"I didn't mean that," Iris quickly replied. "I just—"

"Was this the reason why you kept following me from the Great Hall? Because you were worried that I might be—" He sneered. "— ** _enamored_**  with her?"

Iris remained silent; her eyes, however, betrayed her fear and curiosity.

"I do not wish to keep repeating myself throughout the rest of the school year, and I do not want to be constantly pestered by the same problem over and over again," Tom said quietly. He placed a finger under her chin and tipped her head upwards so that she was staring directly into his eyes. "I suggest that you refrain from attempting to manipulate me, Iris, because your lies are transparent to me, as well as to everyone else."

With that, he moved away from her. Iris finally released him and ran a hand through her blond locks.

"Tom, I—"

"What happens between Granger and me is none of your concern, Iris. Do stop embarrassing yourself with your outrageous theories and ridiculous delusions."

While Tom persuaded Iris to go back to the common room and subsequently stop following him, Hermione quickly shot a pleading look towards a suit of armor next to her and hid behind it. Thankfully, the suit of armor kindly shifted a bit to the side so that her figure was completely hidden from view before Iris turned around the corner and walked away, occasionally casting backwards glances as if she were wishing that Tom would call her back.

When Iris finally disappeared around a corner, Hermione waited for a second before extending her head to check before she stepped out of her hiding space.

Although she had been here to talk to him, she still nearly got a heart attack when she turned around and found Tom staring at her in surprise and mixed emotions in his eyes.

~-0-~

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **A/N** : Huge, huge thanks to my wonderful betas, LSMerlot and Nerys! 


	29. Chapter 29

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Disclaimer** : Hermione's Astronomy paper was completely made up by yours truly except for certain constellation names, such as Circinus. By no means am I claiming that anything said in it is true and can be used as references. I am taking liberties with what wizard folks can and cannot do. With that said, I am assuming that they will know more than the common Muggle and are able to create telescopes that can see things that are further away and so on and so forth.

Heaving a deep breath, Hermione resolutely walked up to him and stared at him. His eyes narrowed for the slightest second before it was covered with impassivity again.

"Yes, Miss Granger?" he asked.

 _Yes, because we are so unfamiliar with one another that we have to resort to surnames now_ , she thought sarcastically. However, now was not a good time to get annoyed about  _ **that**_ _._

"I need to talk with you." She pushed a lock of hair behind her ear, keeping her eyes on the tip of his nose.

"Again?" he questioned her dryly.

"... Yes."

He tilted his head to one side and gazed at her mockingly, "And why should I comply with your wishes?"

"This is important!"

"As you've always said," he scoffed.

"And I've never lied about that," she said defensively.

"What you consider important might not hold any significance to me at all, Miss Granger," he replied, the faintest touch of coolness entering his voice.

Hermione had an inkling of an idea that he was referring to what she had wanted to talk to him about last night. She certainly did not need him to tell her that he did not find Draco a significant being at all; she knew his thoughts about the blond already.

"It concerns the both of us."

"Does it really?" he asked almost conversationally. "But that still doesn't mean that I might be interested in listening to it." He took a step backwards. Afraid that he might take a leave on her, she moved closer to prevent him from doing so. He tilted his head sideways. "My, my. Aren't you quite comfortable standing in a corridor all alone with your supposed  _ **rapist**_."

It was the most inappropriate moment, but his words brought back Ginny's words, and her face promptly turned beet red.

She threw up her hands in the air out of frustration. "Do you have to be so difficult?"

He raised his eyebrow at her reaction, and the smirk that appeared on his face was so infuriating and ... so  _ **pleased**_  that it made the redness on her face turn a few shades darker.

"Listen," she said, changing the subject altogether, "I haven't told Harry about ... what happened last night."

"Oh?" he asked, very much amused, which made a twinge of nervousness run through Hermione's body.

"Yes," she replied. "They're bound to do something rash if they found out, and there's no point pulling them into situations that only concerns you and me. And ... it's NOT funny!"

He stopped his soft chuckles and eyed her. "Au contraire, Miss Granger. I find it  _ **very**_ interesting." He leaned slightly forward. "I'm not bothered by the idea of them finding out about the truth."

"If they find out—"

"Not my problem," he cut in.

"Of course it is! The last thing they would do is to let it pass without taking any actions," she explained in a hurry. "If they find out about it—"

"I haven't had a chance to duel Mr. Evans during class yet. This might prove to be a wonderful opportunity," Tom remarked, interrupting her words and straightening up.

Hermione ogled at him.

_You'll have more than a couple of chances to do that in the future. This time around, however ..._

Ever since they arrived in the past, Hermione had been thinking about the problem of the twin cores. If they had to duel during class, Priori Incantatem might happen again. However, Hermione also took into consideration that Harry had used the Elder wand to fix his old wand. Therefore, there was also the possibility that the connection between his and Tom's wand was broken during the process. Unfortunately, if her theory was correct, Harry would never stand a chance against Tom.

"And it might be a nice change if Mr. Malloy tries to hex me."

"You can't be serious," Hermione said immediately.

"Does it look like I'm joking?" he asked calmly. "He hadn't once raised his wand at me throughout the last few months. I would certainly be surprised if he actually gathered enough courage to do that. But of course, I think I'm overestimating him when it comes to valiance. He is a Slytherin after all." His lips curved upwards, presumably amused by what he had just said.

"He knows that you have the professors wrapped around your fingers," she retorted, standing up for her friend.

He laughed. "Do you really think that that's the reason why he hasn't stood up to me, Hermione? If you do, I have to say that I've thought too highly of your intelligence. I haven't told the professors about Slytherins and Gryffindors secretly dueling one another, have I?"

"That's because it concerns your own House-mates."

"Did that make any sense to you at all?" he asked, tilting his head and with curiosity written on his face. "With the professors 'wrapped around my fingers,' as you have so charmingly called it, wouldn't I be able to persuade them that it was purely the Gryffindors' fault?"

He smiled when she remained silent.

"It's pretty obvious that Mr. Malloy's afraid of me, as much as you and he wanted to deny it," Tom said, almost as if he were speaking to himself more than to her. "The thought of him standing up to me is as laughable as it is futile."

"The rest of the Slytherins will undoubtedly hex him if he tries to attack you," she answered.

"Oh?" Tom asked, surprise and amusement very apparent on his features. "Are you saying that Mr. Malloy might defeat me in a wizard's duel?"

 _Eh ... fat chance of that happening_ , Hermione thought with a grimace.

"Interesting, Miss Granger. Very interesting," he murmured, like he was really contemplating on challenging Draco to a duel.

"I didn't mean that," she quickly corrected. "I meant that if he tried to hex you ... the younger Slytherins all adore you. They will jinx Draco before he waves his wand."

He raised an eyebrow at her, his face back to its expressionless state.

"We wouldn't want that to happen now, would we? Or else our little Gryffindor might come to his rescue again," he commented mockingly.

"That's beside the point," she replied.

She shifted her eyes to the side as what situation her "rescue" had landed her in floated to the surface of her mind. Unsuccessful in her attempt to fight back a blush and not noticing his coldness, she looked at him again. Something flashed through his gaze when he took in her demeanor.

"It's pointless ... if they do try to duel you. And you're not a person who would waste time on pointless things," she said.

"Oh?" he asked with a faked thoughtful expression. "Since when have you become an expert on my personality, Hermione? I never knew victims become so intent on learning about their  _ **rapists**_."

If she had any success on controlling the redness spreading across her cheeks, it was defeated by his words again. She mentally whacked herself for letting Ginny analyze her emotions towards Tom.

 _It sure is easier to stand up to him after I've faced my emotions, Ginny. It sure is_ , she thought sardonically.

"Mm ... well, I have known you for a while, and I haven't seen you do something without a goal," she replied slowly.

"Thinking a bit too highly of yourself, don't you think, Miss Granger?" he sneered condescendingly.

She gritted her teeth and mentally counted to ten, reining in her temper.

_You're asking him for a favor ..._

_Even though he's saving himself from trouble without Harry and Draco rambling off about how he ... what happened in his room ..._

_Still, if he chooses to talk, there's nothing you could do about it, and there are no witnesses there to prove that you hadn't been completely willing. And those stinking, sneaky, annoying Slytherins will definitely take the high-and-mighty Lord Idiot's side._

"Besides, why should I cover up for someone who might attack me at any given moment?" he asked.

 _Hint, hint_ , Hermione thought sarcastically.

Of course. She kicked him in the groin, so he had to get vengeance by being downright insufferable, but did he honestly think that she would apologize for her actions? After he used Volupta's spell on her? So she might have wanted him touching her, but it did not make him completely right in the situation.

 _Because a clouded mind makes everything sooo consensual_ , she thought,  _and he certainly does not owe_ **me** _an apology for taking away my free will._

She stared at him, a stubborn air surrounding her which caused him to raise an eyebrow.

"Seems like our conversation has come to an end, then. Good day, Miss Granger," he remarked, stepping backwards and preparing to walk around her.

"Wha—Wait!"

She took a step forward and grabbed on to his sleeve. His eyes flickered over to her hand, and with a harsh move, he pulled his robe away.

"I would appreciate it if you stop wasting my time," he hissed coldly. "Just in case you didn't know, I have better things to do than to stand here and listen to your nonsensical gibberish, which I don't care about. Feel free to send my regards to Mr. Evans and Mr. Malloy."

With a nasty grin, he strode down the corridor, but she caught up to him.

"I—" She paused in her words, nibbling her lower lip, half of her mind still unwilling to apologize for something she felt she had not done wrong.

"Or perhaps you wished for me to speak with the two of them right now?" he asked, a sickeningly sweet smile on his face.

Although that look caused fury to rise, it also forced her to make a decision.

"I'm sorry for kicking you."

"Pardon?"

Her eyes flashed and her hands rolled up into fists, but she had to control her temper. She just had to, no matter how much she wanted to pummel his face until his nose resembled that of what he would have for the future.

"I'm sorry," she said a bit louder.

"I still can't hear you, Granger," he told her, his voice as impassive as his face.

Suppressing her rage, she repeated herself through gritted teeth, "I'm sorry."

"Is that the tone of voice you use for your apologies? I do find it weird that people would accept them then because it sounds awfully forced and insincere."

Someone get her a troll's club. She needed to bash someone in the head with it. And no, the Killing Curse would not work in this case because she would not get the satisfaction of hearing him scream again.

She inhaled and exhaled deeply. She should have taken a Calming Draught or something similar before she came after him. It was that obvious to her. And to think that she enjoyed his company when they were debating about school topics.

Ugh.

"I'm sorry for kicking you," she said, forcing it to sound as sincere as possible and hoping he would not make her say it again. She could not guarantee that she could keep her temper in check if he did.

Fortunately, a satisfied smirk graced his features. "Somewhat acceptable."

She let out a sigh of relief. "I told them mostly the truth, but I didn't tell them about ...  _ **that**_."

"That I supposedly  _ **raped**_  you?" he suggested "helpfully," which made her turn red from both annoyance and embarrassment again.

"I didn't go through too many details with them in regards to what we've talked about ..."

"Since that undoubtedly led to the 'rape scene,'" he mocked.

She was pretty sure her irritation level had just increased by at least two levels, and so, she no longer trusted herself to speak without snapping out at him.

He had better not wish for her to apologize to him for calling him a rapist because she refused to admit that the whole episode in his room was completely consensual.

"If you want me to ... corroborate with your lies," he spoke slowly and softly, after a moment of silence, "you'd have to make it worth my while, Miss Granger."

Her head snapped up, surprised because he was finally willing to oblige to her request. Wanting something in return had been expected, since Ginny and she had talked about it earlier.

_Merlin forbid Lord Voldemort from doing something for free._

"No objections?" he questioned her almost tauntingly.

"It depends on what you are asking for," she said, tilting her head a bit higher with more confidence than she really felt.

His fingers wrapped themselves around her wrist before she realized it. With a gentle tug, she was in his embrace, his arm encircling around her waist as his free hand tilted her face upwards.

"Accommodation," he whispered against her lips.

His words were ambiguous, but his intentions were obvious. He gave her a moment for the word to sink into her mind. His closeness made her breath hitch, and she could not recover fast enough to say "no" to him.

Not that rejection would pass through her mind if she waited long enough. It was never an option.

He smiled at that realization and closed their distance. Seconds later, she found herself lost in their kiss as his hands gently touched the back of her neck, causing goosebumps to form across her skin. Her previous aggravation was pushed away by the gentle way his tongue was titillating hers and was replaced by the ticklish feeling of longing that sizzled from where their lips were connected to the rest of her body.

 _It's only to fulfill my side of the deal with him. Nothing more, nothing less_ , she told herself as she suppressed as sigh from escaping her throat.

His hand slid down her spine, causing her to shiver lightly against him. His chuckle vibrated between them. Gently, but firmly, he pushed her backwards, until she was leaning against the wall. His body molded into hers, until there was not a breadth of space between them, and she used whatever remaining willpower she had to stop herself from looping her arms around his neck.

She lost track of time. It was far too difficult for her to pull away with him. Every inch of bare skin that came in contact with his seemed to have a memory of its own, and every second, a new flame was ignited upon each and every cell.

Memories of what he could do to her made her shy and excited at the same time, and without meaning to do so, her hands gripped onto the front of his robes, wanting to pull him closer.

Her actions made him deepen their kiss, and his hands continued to cause sensations to travel up and down her body. It encouraged her to react, to respond to him, and she released his robes, circling her arms around his neck instead to pull him closer.

However, he chose that exact second to move away from her, his eyes indecipherable as he took in her flustered and lost state.

"Wouldn't want to rape you again, Granger," he finally said, a smirk forming on his lips.

He untangled himself from her, despite the shocked expression on her face, and straightened his robes out.

"I shall consider your offer," he said before he turned around and walked away.

Hermione stared at his retreating back with her mouth slightly open, her lips and brain still a bit numb from his ministrations there and her skin still tingling from his touches. Every part of her body screamed out its craving for him until she finally arrived at a conclusion.

He was, without a doubt, the most manipulative bastard she had ever had the honor of meeting.

~-0-~

" _I shall consider your offer."_

Ugh. Stupid Dark Lords and their annoying amusement at others' sufferings.

For the next few days, Hermione always felt a sense of anxiety when she saw Harry and Draco, worried that Tom might not keep to his end of the promise. That was, if his ambiguous statement could be considered a promise.

She saw him during mealtimes, and she realized that it would be far too conspicuous if he were to walk up to her and give her a definite answer. However, he had not attempted to find her and give her said answer, which of course, annoyed her to no ends. She suspected that that might actually be one of his intentions.

As if leaving her standing there in the corridors was not enough. The walk back to the Gryffindor tower was one of the hardest journeys she had to take, including the "camping trip" she, Ron, and Harry had to take last year. The colorful terms she had dubbed the Dark Lord would have made those who knew her well enough stare, but those phrases hardly covered the extent of her irritation. No, they really, really did not. She just knew she should have stayed away from grudge-holding, annoying, sadistic, ridiculous, teasing, alluring, mind-numbingly handsome, clever—

 _Backtrack, backtrack, backtrack_ , Hermione mentally told herself when she realized what she was thinking. It was downright irksome and disturbing that her mind found it amusing to attach positive adjectives to that unscrupulous Head Boy.

It felt even more unfair to Hermione when she saw him walking around comfortably, as if he had not been affected by their interactions at all.

 _Perhaps Draco and Harry were correct, and I did damage something with that kick?_  she thought viciously.

If he truly knew Legilimency and had bothered to tap into her mind, he showed no signs of it at all. He continued to ignore her whenever there were others present, though his lips were always suspiciously drawn into a faint smirk whenever she shot a glare his way.

Ugh, ugh, ugh. She should not care about what he did. She really, really should not. So, therefore, before the rest of the students returned to school, Hermione spent her excess "energy" on the Astronomy paper that was due the week school began. However, the long periods of time she was spending in the library was met with complaints by Draco and Harry.

"Hermione, you've been  _ **living**_  in the library for the past five days already!" Draco complained exaggeratedly as they sat in the Great Hall for dinner.

"I sleep in my dorm, Draco. And I do come down here for meals," she replied.

"Are you writing a textbook documenting the movement of Mars across the skies throughout history or something?" Harry asked, shaking his head.

"Professor Apollos required three feet of parchment. I've only done five feet—"

" _ **Only**_  five feet, she says," Draco muttered to Harry who was ogling at her.

"—Professor Apollos had been known to cut the amount he really wants in half because most of the time, students don't do the proper research required to find the necessary information—"

"Which will, of course, bring about the end of the world," Harry commented in a low voice.

"Eh, I think you prevented that, Evans," Draco whispered.

"—I don't want to get a lower grade just because I haven't spent enough time looking through books—"

"Well, one You-Know-Who vanquished and I get thrown back here to find another one," Harry replied with a sigh.

"Well, you do know what that means, don't you?" Draco asked, raising an eyebrow.

Harry glanced at him questioningly.

Draco sniggered. "The true vanquisher is Hermione. She needs to knee him in the groin again."

Harry snorted, and Hermione shot both of them disapproving glares, which simmered them down immediately.

"Now, if you would excuse me, I need to go to the library," she said with a certain finality to her voice and stood up from the table.

The boys immediately began whispering to one another and stopped when Hermione swirled around towards them again. She stared pointedly at the both of them who gulped at the stern look on her face.

"And you two would do well to finish  _your_  Astronomy papers, too."

With that, she turned around and left the Great Hall, oblivious to the expressions of relief on Harry and Draco's faces that appeared when she did not nag more at them.

It was only when she was in the corridors, making her way to the library, that she allowed a small smile to grace her features. At least that was one thing that made her happy. Although Harry and Draco would occasionally banter with one another, all in all, she could see that their friendship was slowly growing. Of course, Draco was still no Ron to Harry, but at least they were joking around without throwing insults or threatening to curse each other. It was certainly a huge amount of progress for such a small amount of time.

Perhaps what happened in Tom's room did have some positive outputs.

Eh, wrong train of thought there. She pushed the memories back into the corners of her mind again and concentrated on thinking about her Astronomy paper for the rest of her walk to the library, willing her burning cheeks to cool down.

She sat down at her favorite table, which was located right behind a bookshelf. Yes, Draco had warned her to stay in Madam Pince's sight, but the librarian was so constantly breathing down her neck or scrutinizing her, making it difficult to concentrate. Additionally, this part of the library was also the quietest, allowing her to think properly.

So, with a satisfied sigh, she took out her half-written essay and looked through the contents in there. What she had not told Harry and Draco was the fact that there had been an error. She had somehow documented the wrong sentence and forgotten to take down which book she had read it from. Therefore, she had spent three days searching for the right book.

_A total of three hundred and fifty-eight stars (thirty-six of them which are only visible when viewed with the Diananic Telescope) lies in the Circinus constellation. Their alignment with the planet Hutarchinus ensures the balance of the black hole, Lotagim._

Her forehead creased into a frown. She knew that there was definitely something wrong in that last sentence, but which book had she read that from?

"Tsk tsk tsk. Horrible documentation skills, Granger. Did they not teach you how to properly write an essay back at Durmstrang?"

She did  _ **not**_  just hear that annoying voice, and there was certainly no one hovering right above her head. When she counted to three, that fury-inducing presence would disperse, and she would be alone at her favorite table.

"Having problems finding the sentence, Granger? It's right over—" A pale finger pointed at the sentence she was previously fussing over. "—here."

She slowly turned her neck around until she was properly glaring at the most annoying Head Boy of the century—no, of the millennium.

"If you haven't noticed, Mr. I Am So Intelligent I Think I Know Everything, that is precisely why I am in the library," she replied through gritted teeth. "What are you doing here?"

She was already frustrated over her mistake. She did not need him to add more wood to the burning fire.

"I  _ **was**_  going to find an interesting enough book to read," he replied, gesturing at the humongous tome in his arm.

 _Stupid bookworm_ , she thought, her eyes flickering over the book before resuming to stare daggers at him.

"But apparently, you need me to assist you with your essay right now," he finished saying, sliding into the seat next to hers.

"I do not need your help," she snapped.

"Oh?" Tom raised an eyebrow at her. "What does the balance of Lotagim have to do with Circinus's stars and Hutarchinus?"

"I already know that I've copied that sentence wrong, which was why I was looking through books until you've so  _ **courteously**_  disturbed me," she replied.

"Really?" he asked. He pointed to another sentence. "What about this one?"

A slight blush colored her cheeks red. "I knew that," she muttered as she scratched out said line.

"And the first line on the third paragraph right after that," he continued.

"Stop reading my essay," she growled. She glanced at the sentence he pointed out last. "That line was directly copied from Artemis Longbottom's  _A Thousand Facts about Circinus_. How is that wrong?"

"The book was written by a Longbottom, so the information in there is wrong by default," he answered.

Her temper flared; it was almost as if he had directly insulted Neville, whom she had always had a soft spot for.

"Unfortunately, there are no books in this library written by a Riddle, since it is so obviously a Muggle last name," she blurted out before she could stop herself.

His movement was so quick that her breath caught. He towered over her, fury contorting the features of an angel into the outraged face of a demon.

"Say that again, Granger," he commanded softly, his voice contrasting immensely with that look on him.

She swore his eyes were red right now. She did not dare to keep staring into them because she felt as she would suffocate at any given moment right now. She could not lie: She was beyond frightened right now. For the first time, she fully appreciated what Harry had to go through because, Merlin's pants, she wanted to run for cover.

"I ... I ... I was just ... just joking," she stammered. "I'm ... I mean ... Granger's a Muggle surname, too. It ... it's not too big of ... a deal."

A frightening sneer twisted his features.

"So typical of you, Granger, to assume things that you have no idea about," he hissed.

Hermione swallowed.

"'Not too big of a deal,' you say," he continued, grabbing her chin and forcing her head upwards, "because every  _ **Muggle**_ —"

He spat the word out with so much hatred that it made her wince.

"—parent is so disgustingly pleasant and caring."

 _Talk about a bad childhood_ , she thought to herself.

If it were someone else, this should have been the cue for her to ask, but she had a feeling that he might become even more infuriated if she did. Like sticking a needle into a hand grenade.

 _Eh ... I don't feel particularly suicidal today. Definitely not._  
  
She nibbled her lower lip, feeling his magic sizzling in the air, unrestrained. It showed quite clearly how angry he was at the moment, and she was surprised Madam Pince had not come running this way to find out what was wrong. The strength of his power was frightening, perhaps even scarier than that time during Hunting Day, when she misunderstood his intentions and had gotten him hurt. She stilled for a second, wondering if he had cast spells around them to prevent others from running in on them. She shook that thought away, deciding to keep her concentration on getting out of this situation first.

"Not ... all pure-blood fathers are nice," she replied timidly, keeping her eyes focused on his nose, "just like not all Muggle fathers are horrible either."

He remained silent as he scrutinized her for a moment. Then, he spoke, his face hovering directly above hers with his eyes darker than usual because of the lack of light.

"Ridiculous acting and covering up skills, Granger. Considering the fact that you continue to say that you come from Durmstrang and deny knowing things about me, every other sentence of yours seems to indicate otherwise."

She would have released a sigh of relief if he were not still holding on to her face. His voice was a lot calmer than before, and he obviously had his temper back under control. Additionally, he had been directly or indirectly inquiring about their backgrounds since the first week they had arrived here. This was something she was familiar with and had no problem with.

"Must you attach some form of alternate meaning to everything I say? Will it make you feel better if I answer your questions with bland answers such as 'yes' or 'no?'" she asked mockingly, raising her eyebrows at him.

His lips curved into a soft smile. "That will be excruciatingly painful," he assessed, undoubtedly imagining her like that. "For the both of us, I would say, since it is virtually impossible for you to not speak."

Her anger would have been ignited again if she had not just witnessed the way his expression could immediately go from "charmingly pleasant" to "murderously dangerous."

_What's with the mood swings?_

When and if she saw Harry, she was going to give him a big hug. A big, big hug. What he had to endure was not appropriate for the faint-hearted or the mentally weak. That much was obvious. One could not possible attach a standard to Tom Marvolo Riddle, and dealing with him was harder than she had ever imagined.

"I ... well, Riddle isn't a common wizard name."

"It isn't," he conceded with a short nod. "But for you to compare Muggle fathers with pure-blood fathers instead of mothers or parents ... I do find that suspicious and makes me wonder exactly how much you know about me."

Her face turned red. "You can't possibly accuse me of stalking you."

He smirked. "Guilty conscience there, Granger?"

"No," she immediately replied. "It just sounded like an accusation to me."

"That thought hadn't even crossed my mind," he said. He released her chin and placed his hand on the table. "You know something about me. Even before you arrived at Hogwarts."

"That's just ridiculous," she lied, rolling her eyes for the added effect. "Have you been to Durmstrang? Have you been schooled anywhere else except for Hogwarts? I think not. So why should I know anything about you?"

"That," he said, "is what I want to know. Strange for you to know that my  _ **deceased**_  father was a Muggle." A tinge of sarcasm marked his words and expression.

"I've come to understand that the rumor mill at Hogwarts sometimes hold figments of truth," she answered vaguely.

He raised an eyebrow. "It might have been an excellent lie, Granger." He leaned closer to her, until his lips were nearly touching her ear. "Except everyone here knows that I am an orphan. Pray tell why would they talk about my  _ **dearest**_  father," he breathed, sending delicious yet frightful little tingles down her spine.

"That's ... what I want to know," she stuttered, his presence making it hard to speak normally.

"Oh?" His lips came in contact with her earlobe, making her heart skip a beat. "Did they tell you how ...  _ **upset**_  I was about his horrible, horrible death?"

She was positive about it. There were obvious hints of humor in his voice, as if he felt that it was some kind of joke to him—well, considering  _ **whom**_  she was talking to, he might very well be finding his father's death a joke.

"Did they tell you what a responsible father he was, abandoning my mother because she was magical?" he continued to ask. He straightened himself up. "It was a good thing I hadn't expected too much when I found out he was a Muggle, but of course, he exceeded my expectations. But no matter. He met his rightful end."

She slightly shuddered at the detachment and coldness present in his voice while he spoke about his father's death.

"Muggles," he sneered. "To think that we hide from them when in actuality, they should fear us. They will never understand the true extent of what we can do to them, and we ridiculously allow them to limit our societies."

If she were calmer, she would have found it strange that he had allowed his pretense of liking Muggles and Muggle-borns drop in front of her. However, the condescending way by which he was talking about them reignited her fury.

"The reason why we keep to ourselves is because of the complications that might occur if Muggles know about us," Hermione objected heatedly. "It is not because we feel that we are inferior to them. It is pointless proving if Muggles or wizarding folk are superior because we each have our own ways of living."

"I've forgotten. You support Muggles and Mudbloods," he said, eying her as if she were pathetic.

His actions and words together made her anger flare once more, quickly overtaking her fear. This was the first time he used that derogatory term in front of her, and for some reason, it made her more irritated than when Draco had spoken it.

"You will learn sooner or later, Granger, that we are indeed superior to them," he said. "They do not and will never understand our ways of living. Have you ever wondered why Mudbloods and their parents drift further and further apart from one another? That is because Muggles can never incorporate themselves into our society."

"That is not true," she replied stonily.

"Not true?" he asked, amused. "Are you going to tell me that you have been treated differently? Are you going to tell me that your father had not winced whenever you showed magical abilities? How many times did he attempt to beat the magic out of you? How many times did your Mum had to pull him back away from you? How many times did you cry yourself to sleep because you were considered a weirdo, an outcast in the family? And exactly how many times were you hidden away because your father was ashamed to have you as his daughter?"

"My  _ **parents**_  never judged me for what I am. They loved me for who I am, even when they did not understand why strange things happened around me," she answered angrily. "They accepted that perhaps there was something special about me, and contrary to most other Muggle parents, they never attempted to send me to some psychiatrist or tried to beat the magic out of me. Even after I got my letter, our love for one another never weakened. The only reason I spent a lot less time with them was because I had not wanted to place the burden on them. They always made an attempt to spend time with me, despite their busy schedules, and I did not want that for them, but that doesn't mean we are drifting apart."

Tom remained suspiciously silent during her speech, though Hermione was too caught up in her anger to realize it. It was when she stopped talking and he still had not spoken that she acknowledged that something was off. The expression on his face was, to say the least, odd, and she could not even attach a term to it. When he finally spoke, his voice was soft, but in no ways showing his emotions, and she felt a cold wave of dread sweep across her body.

"You're a Muggle-born."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **A/N** : Huge thanks to my betas, tormented eyes and Nerys!


	30. Chapter 30

**Chapter 30**

" _You're a Muggle-born."_

His statement resounded in her mind, each syllable freezing her from head to toe. She should run. She should attempt to get out of the library as soon as possible. She should not stay here, stare at He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named, and wait for him to make the first move. The only person that might keep her safe was Madam Pince, and the librarian was sitting too far away, oblivious to what was happening over here.

_Like that would be a fat load of help if Lord Voldemort decides to kill me. He had framed his uncle by this age already, Hermione Jean Granger. What's stopping him from murdering me and Obliviating Madam Pince?_

_Don't be ridiculous. Why would he kill you?_

_Because he embarrassed himself. Because he slept with a Mudblood. Because he had taken interest in a Mudblood._

She should have taken heed of Draco's warning. Why did she think it was a good idea to study in the quietest part of the library again? Maybe it was a good idea to have Madam Pince breathing down her neck after all. At least she would not have to worry about someone finding her mangled corpse in the middle of the lake tonight.

He continued to gaze at her, and she could not bring herself to look away from him, which was probably a good thing. If he were going to kill her, at least she would know exactly how she died.

Seconds ticked by, and the feelings slowly returned to her legs and arms. It also brought a good amount of courage back into her system, and she tilted her head slightly higher, almost defensively.

"Yes, I am."

If she were to die, she would not die denouncing her heritage.

Mixed emotions flashed through his eyes at her declaration. She could almost see the hatred he had for Muggles struggling vehemently with something else inside of him, but she could not and did not want to discern what that "something else" was. The only thing she could concentrate on was that venomous hatred.

It did  _not_  hurt her. It definitely did not. Why should she care that he hated Muggles and Muggle-borns? She had known that he was Lord Voldemort. She had known what he stood for and the bigotry he preached. There were no reasons for her to feel pain for the fact that he now labeled her as something he hated.

That sharp stab in her heart was not pain. It was ... fear. She would be ignorant and foolish if she did not feel afraid after her declaration. He could easily kill her right here and she would never get to see her friends and family again. It was definitely fear.  _ **Not**_  pain.

Biting hard into her lower lip, she glared determinedly back at him, unwilling to let her emotions get the best of her, or rather, let  _ **his**_  emotions get the best of her. It was his problem that he had an idiotic hatred of the majority of the world, not hers, and if he could not get over it ... it would not be her problem.

Because she did not care.

A short moment passed, and the lack of reactions from him began grating on her nerves. Why was he not saying anything? She had expected some long speech about the filthiness of Muggle-borns and Muggles after she admitted what she was. However, he merely stood there like some kind of statue. Did he plan to become a pillar for the library?

"Well?" she asked out of frustration, throwing her hands in the air.

She crossed her arms over her chest, waiting for him to speak, and her aggravation only grew when his eyes simply narrowed. She stared right back at him, daring him. If he did, indeed, open his mouth and say something that rubbed her feathers the wrong way, she would have no problem hitting him the Muggle way. And she knew exactly where to target, thanks to constant reminders by Harry and Draco.

"Are you going to say something or what? I thought you had all your  _ **thought-provoking**_ ,  _ **world-changing**_ ,  _ **clever**_  speeches made up already. Aren't you going to recite them to me now?"

"Granger, for once, keep your mouth shut," he finally said, his voice quiet.

It would have sounded dangerous to Hermione under other circumstances, but not right now.

"And why should I?" she lashed out. "Because I should adjust to your warped, self-serving way of treating other wizards and witches? Because I should listen to your biased opinions about how people like me should be treated? Do you actually think I should support your stupid ideas? Because if you do, Tom Marvolo Riddle—"

Suddenly, his hand shot out, grabbed her arm, and pulled her into his embrace, cutting her off. With his free hand, he grabbed a hold of her hair and pulled backwards. The strain on the roots of her hair nearly made her yelp, but she held it in, biting her lower lip to fight back the sound of defeat. Anger twisted his features; the charming young man was no longer there. In his place was a ready-to-strike viper, beautiful and alluring in all its colorfulness and sleek movements, but at the same time, deadly with its poisonous bite.

"I will only say this one more time, Granger. Keep your mouth shut," he warned.

Her mouth snapped shut, knowing that he was nearly at the verge of losing it completely again. Although, had he ever been sane?

 _Good question_ , she thought.

"The way you just keep going on and on is just unacceptable and can be classified as annoying when someone is trying to think properly," he said, eying her condescendingly. "It would do you well to learn when to listen and think rather than rattle things off as if you are the only person in the world who mattered."

"And watch you think over things like an idiot? Because people like me are supposed to listen to our so-called 'superiors,' aren't we? And if we don't, it's nothing a bit of Cruciatus can't solve, right?" she asked mockingly before she could stop herself, despite the difficulty of speaking with her head pulled backwards. "If it didn't frighten me the first time, do you think—"

He frowned and closed his eyes the moment she spoke, as if in exasperation.

"—so if you think that you can scare me with those torture curses that you have up your sleeves—"

Before she could get another word out, his lips crashed down on hers, silencing her. Suddenly, he pulled away again. A vicious grin appeared on her face when she saw blood forming on the place where she had wounded him. When she saw the wild look in his eyes, however, it was immediately wiped off her face.

With a squeak, she tried to push him away, but to no avail.

"You are a bit too fond of biting,  _ **Hermione**_ ," he said through gritted teeth.

"You're  _ **mental**_!" she shrieked. "Did you think that I would be interested in snogging you right after you blatantly showed your dislike for  _ **what**_ I am?"

She was positive that there was something immensely wrong with him. He was supposed to hate her. He was supposed to despise her. She had been expecting the Cruciatus Curse, or even the Killing Curse, but certainly not  _ **this**_.

"Once again, you had proven my point that you simply don't know when to shut up, Hermione," he growled, holding her tight as she tried to struggle out of his arms. "Continue like this, and I will consider our deal nullified."

Instantaneously, Hermione froze and ogled at him. The corner of his lips twitched upwards when she stopped struggling, amusement written quite clearly on his face now. It appeared that he had his temper under control again.

Letting go of her hair, he wiped the blood off with the back of his hand. He looked at the bloodstain there as the tip of his tongue languorously swept across the wound she had inflicted on his lower lip. For some reason, his movements made a furious blush spread over her cheeks, and she dropped her gaze, choosing to stare at his neck instead. Their closeness to one another allowed her to catch whiffs of his scent, causing her cheeks to warm up even more.

Instead of grabbing her hair again, he placed his hand on her arm. She glanced upwards and found him looking off to the side, his expression contemplative. When she caught herself staring, she mentally chided herself and ducked her head.

She should  _not_  be drooling over him, regardless of how utterly, breathtakingly handsome he was, and she should  _not_  feel nice and comfortable in his embrace. There was something wrong with her. Definitely something wrong with her. How could she be angry at him for one moment and wanting to stay in his arms forever the next? Not to mention the fact that there were at least ten million things wrong with the sentence, "She wanted to stay in his arms."

_The Dark Lord, Hermione, Lord Voldemort. Killer of millions. Hater of Muggles and Muggle-borns. He was just talking about that a few minutes ago, and he just pulled your hair to pain you. No reasons to be attracted to him at all._

Shaking away the improper thoughts, she determinedly stared straight ahead, but then found herself staring at his chest. Well ... yes ... he was wearing robes, but she could clearly remember what she had seen ...

She nearly groaned. She swore she was not a pervert, but her excellent memory chose this precise minute to flash details through her mind. This was rather inconvenient and awkward. So, she turned her head but found herself looking at his hand instead, and she recalled the time when they were in the corridor ...

Remembering that reignited her annoyance with him. Really, she was not ready to forgive him for leaving her stranded like that. However, before she could decide on what, exactly, to do with the tease standing there, his fingers curled around a lock of hair, twirling it slowly.

She looked upwards and found him gazing at her with an amused expression on his face.

She raised her eyebrows. "Well? Have you reached a 'verdict' yet? Or do I have to stand here and wait for an insane amount of time for you to make up your mind? I still have homework, you know."

He chuckled softly. "I suppose I should have guessed that you were Muggle-born since the day you argued with Abraxas during class. It is abnormal for half-bloods to stand up for Muggles and Muggle-borns, despite their part-Muggle heritage. And the passionate way you fought for them ..." He seemed lost in thought for a second there, but immediately caught himself. "It should have been clear to me what you are."

She snorted. "Well, now that you've made such a 'ground-breaking discovery,' can you let me go already? And in case you don't remember, wards of all types are forbidden in the library."

He looked mildly surprised at her mentioning the wards, but it disappeared as quickly as it had appeared.

"No, Miss Granger. I cannot let you go yet," he said.

His voice was dangerously quiet again, causing her heartbeat to speed up again and leading her to wonder what he was thinking about now. She could not tell from the impassive mask on his face. However, when he did not pull out his wand, she pushed her fears away as much as she could and opened her mouth.

"Look, you cannot possibly place the blame on me. We are not required to wear a tag indicating whether we're a pure-blood, a half-blood, or a Muggle-born while we attend this school. And if you cannot get over the fact that you ... that you've slept with a  _ **Mudblood**_ , then it's your problem and your problem alone," she said as calmly as she could.

He did not immediately answer her. Instead, he gazed at her so intensely that it made her turn red again. He released the lock of hair in his hand and tilted her chin upwards.

"You are so ... strange, Miss Granger."

Her eyes slightly narrowed at his assessment. So now,  _ **she**_  was the strange one?

Before she could comment about it, however, he continued, "It is the first time I saw a Muggle-born so comfortable with their heritage, especially with the renewed feeling of superiority amongst pure-bloods with the rise of Grindelwald. It is almost as if you do not ... belong here."

Hermione's heart skipped a beat at exactly how close he was to the truth, so she immediately lowered her eyelashes to hide her gaze, just in case he had mastered Legilimency.

"Especially considering what a stronghold he has over Durmstrang ..."

"That is precisely why we had to transfer to Hogwarts. We had to get out of there before they decided to start torturing the Muggle-borns," she quickly lied.

That seemed like a good reason for them to escape. According to Krum, Durmstrang had not always discriminated against Muggle-borns or taught the Dark Arts freely. Those were things that occurred with the rise of Grindelwald. After Dumbledore defeated him, however, the discrimination slowly died down. The Dark Arts, however, were still kept in the curriculum because the Highmaster and professors deemed it a good thing for students to have some knowledge in it.

After Igor Karkaroff became the Highmaster of Durmstrang, perhaps it was because of his Death Eater name, he had been vehemently encouraging Muggle-borns to attend their school. Although most, if not all, of the Muggle-borns were still wary about attending Durmstrang when they came across the dark history of the school. Therefore, Malfoy's information was slightly off, but not completely incorrect when he said that Durmstrang did not accept Muggle-borns—it was more because of the fact that Muggle-borns did not even bother to consider the school as a possibility.

"But to admit it so freely and with pride ..." he spoke softly. "Either you are a true Gryffindor, or you are just simply too naive." He lowered his head until his lips were softly touching hers. "Or maybe a bit of both."

His tongue flickered out and gently licked her upper lip, causing her heart to flutter again, though this time, it was no longer from fear. As much as his actions enticed her, it confused her thoroughly. He was completely acting out of the norm—or rather, he was not reacting like she thought he would. Why was he kissing her instead of cursing her to oblivion?

"You are very strange, indeed," he concluded.

_And I can say the same about you, too ..._

She held her breath, almost anticipating the moment when he would close the distance. However, he did not. He merely allowed his lips to hover right above hers while he loosened his grip on her. He was still holding her close to him, but it was no longer with that iron-like, pain-inducing strength, while his other hand forced a sigh of surrender from each and every part of her body it touched.

She could clearly feel every part of his body pressed up against hers. The way he was physically stronger than her almost made her feel vulnerable against him, but at the same time, it gave her a sense of security, a sense of being protected. She was positive he must feel her heartbeat speeding up, and that thought in itself made her blush again, wondering if he knew what she was thinking. She felt her legs turn to jelly as his hands continued to caress her gently and intimately.

And then, he stopped.

_Oh no ..._

Before she could blink, he had allowed her to slide into the chair she was previously sitting in and had taken a step back.

_Not again!_

That infuriating smirk was back into place, and he was looking at her far too innocently for his intentions to be described the same way.

"I bid you good-night then, Miss Granger. I, too, still have some last minute homework to attend to," he said.

_I'm going to kill him ..._

"Good luck with your essay," he finished.

With a wave of his hand, the wards around them dropped, and he strode in the direction of the exit while she stared daggers at his retreating back, unable to open her mouth to call him back.

Suddenly, he stopped and swirled around.

"Oh, and Miss Granger?"

She refused to speak, determined on glaring him to death.

He laughed, all too joyfully in her opinion, when he noticed her discomfort.

"There's a whole essay refuting Longbottom's opinion on that last sentence I pointed out to you. It's found in  _Faults and Theories in Anomalies_  by Ursula Stargazer, chapter eighty-nine."

With that, he walked out of the library without another backward glance, leaving behind a very, very frustrated Hermione Jean Granger again.

~-0-~

Since he had not bothered to vocalize his thoughts, Hermione had no idea what the status of their "relationship" was any longer. After he abandoned her for a second time, Hermione had decided to avoid situations where she would find herself alone with the Heir of Slytherin. Yes, she had been caught off guard in the library, but she could not deny the attraction she felt towards him. Staying away from him, however, also brought about dreams of his touches at night which were always left unresolved.

"Enough of it already! Would you stop leaving me like this?" she had woken up yelling one night.

Thankfully, the other students were still not back in school yet, so she did not have any explaining to do. However, that protection would not last forever, since they were returning on Friday. In order to prevent future possible embarrassments, she had decided to place silencing charms around her bed before she went to sleep.

Her problems were, naturally, not shared by her fellow time travelers. Therefore, Harry, Draco, and Ginny's biggest concern was still how to return home. The truce between Harry and Draco proved to be useful when it came to devising plans to get them back to the future, however, since they spent a lot less time throwing insults at one another. Although there were times when they still reverted back to their childish banters, all in all, they managed to remain civil.

"So, it has been more than a month since Dumbledore went to Germany," Ginny summed up on Tuesday afternoon.

Hermione and Harry nodded.

"And no owls at all?" Draco asked. "Have you tried owling him?"

"I doubt he would make himself traceable, seeing that Grindelwald is at large right now, and I initially thought that he would send an owl back if he did find Feierabend," Hermione explained.

"So ... are you saying that something might have happened to him?" Draco asked, fear seeping into his voice though he had no excess of love for their old Headmaster. If anything, it was because it meant that their chances of going back had just been lowered.

The four of them sank deep into their thoughts, Draco's question hanging over them like a blade, ready to fall down on them any second. The possibility of never returning home frightened them.

"I think we should start looking through the library books. Even if we can't find the counter-spell to the one that sent us back here, there are no rules dictating that we cannot travel back in time one way and return in another," Hermione finally suggested. "I've gone through a lot of books in the library already, but they hardly have anything pertaining to time travel. I think we might need to check in the Restricted Section."

"Hermione, Madam Pince would have our skin fried like fish and chips before we got pass that rope," Draco pointed out with a frown.

"Harry has his invisibility cloak with him," Ginny replied. "But we can't all fit under the cloak at once." She glanced back at Hermione who nodded to her statement.

"What we need to do is separate in pairs. Two of us will have to keep watch while the other two look for information in the Restricted Section."

"Right, but how are the two keeping watch going to tell the other two that someone's coming?" Ginny asked.

"Since we will have to do this at night, the two keeping watch will have to stay by the doorway. I think you and Harry can keep watch under the invisibility cloak while Draco and I look through the Restricted books. If someone's coming, Harry can imitate the Bloody Baron's voice and you can imitate Peeve's voice," Hermione proposed.

"Weatherby doing Peeve's voice?" Draco wrinkled his nose.

"She's pretty good at it," Hermione said, eying Ginny who grinned back at her.

Ginny suddenly cackled in a way so similar to Peeves that it made Draco stare as if it were the first time he met her.

"So, we're all alright with the arrangements?" Hermione asked, softly chuckling at the look of disbelief on Draco's face.

After agreeing that that was probably their best option, all of them stood up and stretched.

"I'm heading to the Room of Requirement for a nap then. When are we going to do this?" Draco asked as he smoothed out his robes.

Hermione slightly frowned in thought.

"We should probably get to it as soon as possible. We should probably also try to find information about Feierabend, too, just in case we need to find Dumbledore."

"Find Dumbledore? Are you mental, Hermione? He's in Germany right now, so how are we supposed to find him?" Draco asked incredulously.

"Just in case, Draco," Hermione reminded him of her words. She paused. "I'm just afraid that we're changing the timeline. If that were to happen, we might return to a future that we no longer know. What's the point of that?"

The uncertainty and hollow sound in her voice made the other three people stop in their actions. For the first time, the seriousness of their situation struck them, and it struck them hard.

"Is ... is it possible though? Is it possible for us to change something?" Harry asked, looking at Hermione for reassurance.

She sighed. "Yes." She swallowed the hard lump in her throat and continued. "I've told you this once before, Harry, though I doubt you'd remember it. There are people ... some people who go back in time and accidentally kill their past selves and others who go forward in time and accidentally kill their future selves. It's not unheard of, and if that were to happen, we might all disappear or we can change the future so drastically that nothing is the same anymore."

The three of them remained silent, and Hermione shifted in her position, a bit uncomfortable about the fact that she had to share the burden with her friends. However, she did feel that they had the right to know what might happen.

"Well ..." Ginny started to say, catching the attention of Harry, Draco, and Hermione, "we can't really change what we don't know. So, we have to start looking for ways to go back quickly, or else we might change things even more." She then frowned and gave a short nod. "And I suppose we should start looking for information about Feierabend, just like Hermione suggested."

"We'd probably have to break into Dumbledore's office," Harry added.

Draco raised an eyebrow. "Why?"

"Because there might be information about his contacts in Germany. If he is going to look for Feierabend there, we might get clues about who and where we should look," Harry answered.

He then looked at Hermione for approval but found her with a deep frown on her face.

"What's the matter, Hermione?" Ginny asked softly.

Hermione shook her head before looking up at the other three people. "I'm just thinking ... what if something happens to Dumbledore, and Grindelwald wins because of us?"

And that was a can of worms if she had ever known one.

~-0-~

After much fussing and worrying, they finally decided to get things over and done with. So, they agreed to break into Dumbledore's office and the library the following night. They waited until they were positive that the rest of the remaining students were in their respective common rooms before they snuck out of the Gryffindor tower.

As they walked quickly towards their destination, Harry spoke quickly, "It's ten minutes before curfew. It will take us at least three minutes to reach Dumbledore's office—"

"—and at least another three to open the lock," Draco finished. "Why do I feel that there are at least twenty ways this could go wrong?"

"Stop jinxing us, Malloy," Harry hissed.

"I'm not kidding though. I'm more scared of Riddle finding us than anyone else," Draco said in a low voice.

"Because we all know how much he would love to have another reason to torture you," Ginny whispered.

Draco's face turned paler than it usually was. "It's not funny, Weatherby. If he finds another reason to Cruciate me, I might as well move to the Room of Requirement for the rest of the time we're here."

Ginny snickered but did not make any further comment. They remained quiet and did not have any more conversations for the rest of the way to their destination.

When they finally reached Dumbledore's office, they stared at the closed door.

"So ... any ideas about how to get in there? I doubt a simple  _Alohomora_  is going to work on it," Draco pointed out. He glanced at Hermione, who was staring at the door with a frown. "Well, Hermione?"

"It's a puzzle," she concluded. "You see those runes on the door? They can be grouped into three." She pointed at the top, the middle, and the bottom of the door in order. "However, the runes are not in the correct order. So, we first—"

"Wait, Hermione," Draco cut her off. She looked at him questioningly. "You know how to get through whatever this is he set up here, don't you?" She raised her eyebrows but nodded.

"Yes, I was just about to—"

"Then can't you just open the door without giving us a whole lecture about how it is done? Because first off, we're not going to learn the whole thing in a matter of minutes, and secondly, Evans here is certainly not interested in it," he interrupted her again.

"Oh, like you're interested in it," Harry protested, unwilling to be the only one to take the blame.

Draco shrugged. "So we're both very interested in learning this some other time. But for now, please just open the door, Hermione?"

Huffing and shooting both of them annoyed glares, she turned around and focused on solving the puzzle on the door. After a few complicated waves of her wand, the door finally clicked, indicating that it was open. Hermione blinked.

"Well, that wasn't too hard," she murmured.

"Wasn't too hard, she says," Harry muttered under his breath.

"You are so lucky she was your friend since year one, Evans. If not, I would like to see you try and defeat You-Know-Who," Draco said in a soft voice.

"I'm not kidding there. If I can get through that, I doubt Tom wouldn't be able to," Hermione answered, frowning in thought.

"And why would Riddle want to break into his office? To steal his whole lifetime supply of lemon drops?" Draco asked, rolling his eyes.

Hermione shrugged while Harry and Ginny exchanged amused glances. Nevertheless, since they could not fathom why Dumbledore left such an "easy" puzzle on his door, they checked on both sides of the hallways and opened the door. To their surprise, there was a second door behind it. Harry tried to turn the knob but to no avail.

"Another puzzle?" Draco asked, peeking over Hermione's shoulder.

She shook her head. "There's nothing on the door."

She was slightly panicking now, realizing that they were using far more time than they had guessed on Dumbledore's doors. What if someone caught them?

"Try using the password he used last time," Harry suggested. "Didn't you say you spoke to him before he went off to Germany?"

"Isn't that too easy?" Draco asked.

"Not to mention I didn't hear him mutter anything at the door," Hermione replied exasperatedly.

"Well, we can try," Harry insisted.

For the next five minutes, the four of them started muttering anything that came to their minds that might be the password. They were about to give up when suddenly, out of the blue, Harry muttered "Ariana." With a creak, the door slid open.

It surprised them so much, that momentarily, they stood there staring at the doorway until Draco spoke up. "For once, Evans, brilliant."

"Er ... thanks," Harry replied, still kind of surprised he accidentally opened the door.

"No wonder the Dark Lord was always nagging about you having extraordinary luck," Draco snickered as they strode into the room.

A sheepish smile appeared on Harry's face upon hearing his words. They then placed their concentration on the room in front of them, trying to guess what might give them clues in regards to where Dumbledore might be. The sheer amount of things in the room, however, started to make them feel slightly worried; the time they needed to spend on searching through the stuff in the room might be longer than they had first anticipated.

Draco shuddered as he eyed the room warily. "Someone remind me again why we're in here? What's stopping him from putting some charm  _ **in here**_  to trap us?"

"Well, we'd have to take the risk, don't we? He probably wouldn't, seeing that one of the other professors may need to borrow something from his office," Hermione analyzed. "I think someone should keep a watch out at the door, just in case someone strolls around the corner and sees the door open."

Harry nodded, and seconds later, he and Ginny disappeared under the Invisibility Cloak while Hermione and Draco proceeded to scour the room for any possible information about Dumbledore's German contacts.

~-0-~

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **A/N** : Many thanks to my betas, tormented eyes, catcachoo (from PI), and Nerys!


	31. Chapter 31

**Chapter 31**

"We ... are going ... to get ... caught," Draco panted as the four of them ran towards the library.

"Shush, Malloy ... and just ... keep going," Harry replied, out of breath from their running and the pressure of his heart pounding furiously against his chest.

After hours of searching and making a horrible mess out of Dumbledore's room, Hermione finally found some letters slipped between the pages of a number of books. To her excitement, two of them in particular—Dietfried Kaufmann and Paulos Meinhardt—urged Dumbledore to visit them in Germany. She immediately called the other three over, but before she could show them the letters, they thought they heard the sounds of footsteps approaching the room. Pulling their hoods over their heads to cover up the telltale signs of their hair color and style, they immediately made a run for it, more than glad that there was still no one in sight in the corridors, but they dared not return to Dumbledore's room.

After running through several hallways, they ducked through another tapestry and, following Harry's lead, they stopped, attempting to catch their breaths. Draco glanced around at their surroundings.

"We're nearly at the library ... Evans, how did you know ... so many shortcuts?" he asked, still not completely recovered from their running.

"Fred and George," Harry replied vaguely, not wanting to disclose information about the Marauder's Map.

A dim look appeared on Ginny's face at the mention of her deceased brother. Hermione gave her a squeeze on her shoulder as a sign of unspoken support, to which Ginny gave a sad smile in return.

"We'd better go to the library now. It's only a matter of minutes or even seconds before they start searching for the people who broke into Dumbledore's office," Hermione said, redirecting their attention to the matters at hand.

She had good reasons to be worried, seeing as they had not had time to properly close the doors after them. They had slammed the second door shut, but to Hermione's surprise, the first door with the runes was nowhere in sight, and Harry had pulled her away before she could investigate. She probably should be thankful towards him for saving her from getting caught. However, she could not help but worry that the authorities of the school would now be alerted that someone had broken into a professor's office.

Before she could dwell on the possibilities, Ginny pulled her gently on the sleeve, and they quickly made their way to the library. As they had planned, Harry and Ginny hid under the invisibility cloak while she and Draco slipped into the Restricted Section to search for books. Although it was not much, they managed to find three books on time travel. Hermione then insisted that they should find some books on Germany and alternative methods to traveling overseas. So after fussing for another moment, they finally found three more books to carry back to their dorms. Handing the books over to Harry and Ginny, Hermione and Draco slipped out of the library and gently tapped the handle of the door, locking it.

They were about to head back to their common rooms as quickly as possible, thankful that no one was patrolling the corridors near the library. However, at that moment, a familiar voice called out to them, rooting them to their spots.

"Miss Granger, Mr. Malloy."

Hermione and Draco did their best to control their expressions, and though she could not see them, she was pretty sure that Harry and Ginny were panicking, too. Slowly turning around, she felt her heart sinking when she found Tom Riddle gazing at them with the scariest expression she had ever seen on his face, standing merely meters away from them at the intersection.

"It's past curfew. Care to explain why the two of you are not in bed?" he asked, strolling up to them with his eyes firmly anchored on Hermione.

The two of them glanced at one another, and Hermione mentally cursed Draco for jinxing them while they were heading here. Therefore, she did not notice the frigid glint that passed through Tom's eyes when he saw their brief interactions.

"Draco here ... was having problems with his Astronomy essay, so I was helping him with it," Hermione lied.

"What—" Draco was about to say. When he saw both Hermione's furious look and Tom's icy stare on him, he immediately nodded. "Yeah, er ... I was having problems with the last part of my essay."

A cold smile appeared on Tom's face. "I see. At one in the morning, Miss Granger? How very ...  ** _accommodating_**  of you."

Hermione immediately blushed furiously at his insinuation and was suddenly afraid that he might not keep to his end of their deal. She was about to open her mouth to say something when Draco spoke up instead.

"Yes, Hermione's always very nice and helpful ... and friendly."

Tom's eyes slightly narrowed as he gazed at Draco, and Hermione thought she saw his wand hand twitch. Apparently, Draco noticed Tom's unfriendly expression, too, since he immediately snapped his mouth shut.

"It's ... Astronomy," Hermione explained, "So naturally, we had to study it during the night."

"Astronomy." The word slid out of Tom's mouth, infused with disbelief. "I am sure there are so many stars to look at in the middle of the library."

"We didn't want people to get the wrong idea," Hermione fabricated, her mind working quickly to create a viable story. "I mean ... if we were to get caught in the Astronomy Tower ..."

Draco made an odd, strangled noise that caught both Hermione and Tom's attention, but when he did not explain himself, Tom took another step towards them.

"Someone broke into Dumbledore's office today," he said, his voice suddenly devoid of emotions and bordering on being harsh. "Give me a reason why I shouldn't suspect the two of you of being the culprits?"

At his accusations, the two time travelers shared a look. Draco quickly looked away.

"We—I—" Hermione stuttered, not knowing what to say since they were, indeed, part of the team who went into Dumbledore's office.

Tom's lips curved into a vicious sneer. "My, my, Miss Granger. Imagine what the Headmaster will say when he finds out about you and Mr. Malloy, causing a mess in Professor Dumbledore's office and breaking into the library in the middle of the night. Yes, I think he would definitely want to know exactly  ** _what_**  the two of you were doing in there." He paused. "Perhaps you thought that Dumbledore's office was safe and ... 'private' enough?"

Hermione gawked at him while an expression of confusion appeared on Draco's face.

"What? You can't be serious!" she exclaimed when she snapped out of her stupor. "You're accusing me ... and him ... us ... doing ... doing ...  ** _that_**  in Dumbledore's office."

Draco's face paled as his eyes snapped over to Hermione. He immediately jumped two feet away from Hermione.

"Wait—You can't—You don't seriously—" Draco stammered. It was obvious that he was afraid that Tom might feel the need to use him as target practice again. He took a deep breath and continued, "You can't seriously think that! Why would I fancy her? I mean,  ** _look_**  at her. Mum would be the first to object! That  ** _hair_** , that ..."

He gestured at her from head to toe, as if he did not know how to describe what "that" is.

"Father would hang me from the ceiling for days if that were the case. He would disown me and throw me to the werewolves!" Draco exclaimed. "He would lock me in my room and forbid me to ever leave the house. I cannot possibly fancy her, nor had I ever thought about fancying her. I mean, she's such a  ** _know-it-all_**. I probably can't even go through a day without her correcting what I do or slapping me around for the fun of it. She even supports  ** _house-elves rights_** , for Merlin's sake. What sane witch or wizard have you ever seen do that? My father would throw a  ** _fit_** if he came home one day and didn't find a single house-elf left in the house because she had so 'kindly' given clothes to them. And who knows what she would support next? She might end up promoting 'Teach Muggles Some Magic Day' or something as insane as that!"

Hermione's eyes narrowed with each word he said, and then finally, she crossed her arms over her chest and glared at him, thoroughly annoyed. What was wrong with these pure-bloods? Could they not see what was wrong with enslaving those poor house-elves? She made a mental note to talk to him about the matter at a later time.

A long silence followed Draco's speech. Tom's eyebrows rose higher and higher with each of statement he heard, and amusement was among one of the many emotions that appeared on his face as he contemplated Draco's words. Then, it all disappeared, and his businesslike, Head Boy air was back.

"Fascinating," he commented slowly, his dark eyes fixed on Hermione once more. "I am sure Professor Dippet will be more than happy to listen to your excuses. Therefore—"

THUD!

Before Draco and Hermione could comprehend what happened as they stared at Tom, who was now lying on the floor, Harry and Ginny pulled off the invisibility cloak and hurried to their sides.

" ** _Evans_** ," Draco sighed out of relief when he recovered from his shock. He looked almost as if he were about to hug Harry. "Thank Merlin for that!"

"What do we do now?" Ginny asked worriedly.

"We should go," Harry suggested.

"We can't just leave him unconscious here in the middle of the hallway," Hermione protested, slightly worried about Tom now. She knew Harry had not cast a deadly or harmful spell on Tom, but she did not know if he had hurt his head or not with that fall.

"Why not?" Draco asked nonchalantly. "Of course we can. It's not like Evans killed him with that curse or something."

"What if one of the professors finds him? We'll all get in trouble because of this," Hermione pointed out.

"Good point, but it's just the two of us because he didn't see Evans and Weatherby," Draco said. A worried expression marred his features, now that he understood their predicament. Suddenly, his face brightened up. "I know what we can do!"

"What?" Harry questioned, looking at the very happy blond Slytherin.

"We can stuff him into the Vanishing Cabinet," Draco replied.

A joyous look appeared on Harry's face, too. "I like that idea."

"We're  ** _not_**  stuffing him into the Vanishing Cabinet," Hermione cut in, a bit annoyed with the suggestion.

"Why not?" Harry protested.

"Because we'd change the timeline, Harry," Hermione replied, rubbing the bridge of her nose.

"Who cares? I mean, honestly, Hermione, at this point, we'd get in trouble anyway. Worse comes to worse, he'll rule over Antarctica or something," Harry said.

"And take over the penguins?" Draco joked, to which Harry chuckled.

"Can we get serious here?" Hermione chided.

The boys immediately pulled on their serious faces, knowing that she might be getting into her "scary mode" soon.

"He can get all of us expelled because of this!" she reprimanded.

"He knows we weren't the ones who hexed him," Draco pointed out.

Ginny snorted. "I'm sure he cares about that, Malloy. It's so obvious how really,  ** _really_**  fond he is of you. I'm sure he's going to take into consideration that you had nothing to do with him getting cursed."

Draco blanched and swallowed. "Good point."

An uncomfortable silence fell over them until Hermione spoke up.

"Look, you lot go ahead. I'll ... I have a way to take care of this," she said.

"Are you mental, Hermione? We're not leaving you here alone with him," Harry protested.

"And you want all four of us to get in trouble? Just trust me, Harry," Hermione insisted. "I know what to do."

Harry continued staring at her stubbornly, though he had no idea how to convince her to think otherwise. Hermione caught Ginny's eyes, and Ginny gave her a look that clearly asked "You sure?" to which she gave her a short, swift nod. Ginny remained silent, her expression pensive, clearly worried about Hermione but not knowing what other ways they had to get out of this.

"Look, you're wasting time, and every second you stay here means another second closer to when he wakes up. If he finds all four of us here, we'll never hear the end of it, and  ** _you_**  will never hear the end of it from me if we get expelled because of your stubbornness," Hermione said firmly.

"But isn't it easier with more people to help you ... move him somewhere or something?" Harry asked. "What are you going to do? Do the Memory Charm on him or something?"

Hermione closed her eyes and counted to three before she trusted herself to speak again. "Harry, just  ** _trust me_**. The Memory Charm can be reversed, and he will most likely know that something's off. I know what I am doing. I am not going to rush myself into trouble—"

"After she spent that long period of time in Riddle's room," Draco muttered on the side, earning a glare from her.

"Now, the three of you, go. We can't all fit under the invisibility cloak anyway, and you have to send Draco back to the Slytherin common room—"

"The Room of Requirement, please," Draco quickly cut in. He glanced at Tom and gulped again. "I think I'm going to permanently move there. There's no way I'm spending the rest of the year in the same dorm as him."

"Fine," Hermione snapped. "Now, will you lot just go?"

"Are you sure you're alright being alone with him, Hermione?" Harry asked warily.

"Yes, Harry. Please go back before we get caught?" she pleaded.

"But—"

"Harry," Hermione hissed so dangerously that the young man stared at her with fear, "if Riddle wakes up before the three of you are safely out of sight—"

"Evans, please, let's just go. She's scaring me," Draco immediately interrupted her and pulled on Harry's sleeve frantically.

Biting the inside of his cheek, Harry remained silent for another second before he spoke again.

"If you don't come back to the Gryffindor common room—"

"You will go to bed," Hermione finished for him. "Nothing's going to happen to me. I promise. But it might take me some time to get back to the Gryffindor common room for my plan to work. You will see me tomorrow morning at breakfast. I promise you."

Casting unsure looks at her, Harry, Ginny, and Draco quickly moved away from the "scene of crime."

"Why was she sorted into Gryffindor again? She should have been in Slytherin—She'd give Riddle a run for his money with that  ** _look_**  on her face—" Draco was whispering as they hurried away with Ginny casting concerned looks back at Hermione every once in a while.

After she was certain that the three of them were out of sight, she pointed her wand at Tom and undid the spell Harry cast on him.

His wand was immediately pointed into the hollow of her neck before she could react, and she held her breath, afraid that he might cast a harmful spell on her. She was surprised by how quick his reflexes were, especially after being hexed.

When he took notice of who was crouching next to him, he lowered his wand and pushed himself into sitting position. His eyes took in the environment around him before they landed on Hermione once more.

"Where are they?" he asked quietly.

The fury on his face was frightening. She had no doubts that if he were to catch the person who hexed him, said person would wish they were dead. She swallowed her uneasiness, making sure to refrain from making eye contact with him.

"They? There was only Draco and me. You saw that. Why did you just pass out like that?" she asked, deciding to play dumb.

His gaze on her turned even colder, bordering on freezing, something which she did not realize.

"Draco and I were researching something in the library," she explained, changing the subject altogether when he did not answer.

"I asked you, Granger, where are they? Do not make me ask again," he said, only slightly above a whisper.

"Who?" she asked, feigning uncertainty.

His hand curled around the back of her neck and he forced her over, until she was half hovering over his body and her face was mere centimeters away from his. His wand was pressing against her neck again, and she momentarily wondered again if he were going to hex her.

" _Legilimens_."

Her eyes widened when the incantation reached her ears and her worst fears were confirmed the moment her memories from moments before started flashing through her mind. She tried to stop him, but his will was greater than hers, and he forced his way through her mind. He jumped from one recollection to another, searching for the person who had hexed him, and when he succeeded, she felt a surge of anger that rushed through his magic, engulfing her and threatening to suffocate her.

Then, he plunged even further into her memories as he determinedly attempted to find out what they were doing that night. She struggled to retain that information, but to no avail. He pushed forward with ease and saw exactly what they were doing in Dumbledore's office that night and the letters she had found. She knew he could feel the jubilation she felt upon discovering those messages, and she felt a flood of satisfaction from his end.

When she saw herself sneaking into the library with Draco, she panicked.

_He's going to find out ..._

The rate of her heartbeat increased with each careful step and cautious backward glance she and Draco took in the memory ...

_I have to stop him ... I can't let him know ..._

A sudden creak from the other side of the library made them stop in their steps ...

_He would never let the four of us free now ..._

When they did not see anything, they continued forward ...

_No, no, NO!_

The Restricted Section was right in front of her ...

_Why can't I think of any ways to stop him?_

She looked upwards towards the shelves for the correct section ...

The world swirled, and her eyes cleared. The moment he was thrown out of her mind, she slumped into his arms, a pile of mush after being attacked in the mind. She shuddered against him, not having enough energy to push herself away from him. Even his hand, which was holding on to the base of her neck, felt comfortable when compared to the clammy feeling she felt.

Seconds passed, and neither of them spoke, both immersed in their own thoughts and questions.

Why was he thrown out of her mind? She did not know Occlumency. That should not have happened.

Suddenly, she recalled that he had been forced out of her mind the moment she was about to look at the time traveling section of the books. Perhaps ... he could not see things that were pertained to time traveling. Maybe that was why he kept pestering for answers even though he already knew Legilimency. That thought nearly made a smile appear on her face until she remembered that she was perched on top of him. She made a move to get up, but he would not let her. His hand remained a firm grip on her neck, almost as if he were sending a warning to her: If she moved, he would not hesitate in hurting her.

So, she remained still as his dark eyes roved over her face.

"What books did you nick?" he asked quietly.

"It's none of your business, Riddle," she replied just as quietly. If he continued calling her "Miss Granger," why should she call him "Tom?"

His eyes narrowed dangerously, and the force with which he held onto her neck increased.

"What books did you nick?" he repeated himself, a clear warning undertone in his voice.

She stubbornly glared back at him, unwilling to be frightened by him. With the knowledge that he knew Legilimency, she realized how stupid it would be to lie to him, so why should she bother? Since he probably could not get information on things pertaining to time travel, she did not have to worry.

"Then you leave me no choice but to take you to the Headmaster," he continued. He released her neck, pushed her off him, and got up from the floor. "I doubt he would believe that you were not one of the culprits who vandalized Professor Dumbledore's room." The corner of his lips curved upwards as he eyed her coldly. "So perhaps tonight will be the last night I see you here in the castle, Miss Granger."

The mocking undertone of his voice was very apparent, but she did not let that bother her for the moment. Mentioning Dumbledore caused something to flash through her mind, and she lowered her head, hoping he had not seen that thought. Regardless, it was her only chance right now, and it was half of the truth. With that thought in her mind, she looked at him again.

"We were looking for methods to travel to another country," she replied.

Although he did not speak, she knew that he was listening to her and was waiting for her to elaborate.

"Professor Dumbledore ... he went to Germany. You knew that, of course. But he went there for us ..." she spoke. "He ... we don't know what happened to him, but if he doesn't come back, we can't go home. So we—Harry, Ginny, Draco, and I—are trying to find a way to travel to Germany, but we can't use International Apparition without the proper documents. We figured there should be a way to find him in the Restricted Section."

He remained silent, presumably digesting her words.

 _Or thinking of other ways to pry the truth out of you_.

His next words, nonetheless, calmed her down a bit.

"Naturally, you came here to escape from Grindelwald. Why do you want to go home while he's still at large?" he threw at her.

"My parents are still there," she answered.

He raised an eyebrow. "They're  ** _Muggles_**."

"Which makes them easier targets for him," she promptly replied.

He frowned as he looked at her, and she did not avert her gaze.

"Very well, then," he said quietly. He paused, his expression contemplative. When he placed his attention back on her, he seemed to have made a decision. "Follow me."

She ogled at him. Was he still going to take her to Professor Dippet after what she told him? Her mind quickly went through what happened in the past few minutes, but she could not fathom where he had noticed something off about her argument.

He took a few steps forward before he swirled around.

"Well? Or are you planning on sitting on the floor for the rest of the night?"

Thoroughly annoyed by him, she pushed herself upwards and sulkily followed after him. Since she refused to look at him, she missed his faint smile that appeared for a fraction of a minute.

They walked in silence, and it was after a few minutes before she realized they were not walking in the direction of the Headmaster's Office.

"This isn't the direction to Dippet's office," she stated, frowning and stopping in her stride.

She stared at a portrait of a Siren that was glancing at Tom seductively and trying to catch his attention. She was positive that this portrait was not on the way to the Headmaster's Office.

"Whoever said we're going to Dippet's office?" he inquired, smirking faintly again, as he, too, stopped in his steps.

"Where are we going?" she demanded guardedly.

"You need a way to travel to Germany, don't you?" he asked instead of answering her.

"What does this have to do with wherever we're going?"

"You're not going to find a way to do that in the library. The only ways that would be documented in a book are Apparition and the Floo network. Since, as you've said, International Apparition is out of the question without the proper documents, you're left with the Floo network, which also needs permission from the Ministry for international travel," he pointed out.

"There must be other forms of traveling, which is why we've gotten the books from the Restricted Section," she argued.

He crossed his arms over his chest. "None of the books in there will give you an alternative method."

"How would—" she stopped herself before she would make a fool out of herself. Of course he would know. He probably knew the Restricted Section like the back of his hands. Therefore, she changed her question. "Then why are we going to whatever place you're taking me? Unless you've snitched all the books on traveling from the library," she commented sarcastically.

"And why would I do that?" he asked. "Now, do you want to go to Germany or not? Or is this trip not as important to you as you've made it seem?"

"Of course it's important to me."

"Then quit your nonstop jabbering and walk," he said sharply, turning around.

"Can't you at least tell me where we're going?" she pressed for an answer.

He merely gave her an annoyed look. When he did not answer, she stood firmly still. His reaction to her not listening to him was, of course, less than kind. He turned around, quickly walked back to her, and grabbed her arm.

"Granger," he hissed, "if you don't cooperate, I will put you under a Full Body Bind and take you there."

"Do you think that I will go somewhere willingly with you when you can't even tell me where you're taking me?" She determinedly kept her mind away from  ** _that_**  place, fearful that he might pick it up from her mind.

"Where's your Gryffindor  ** _courage_**?" he mocked, his annoyance clearly shining through his words and face. "If this is what is expected of the House of the Lions, then I must say that it doesn't take very much to get in there."

"Right, it takes an awful lot to get into Slytherin, which is why your House has people like Crabbe and Goyle," she retorted, rolling her eyes.

He studied her face silently before he finally smiled again, although this time, it had lost its mocking edge.

"True. Although I doubt they would fit well in other Houses. The other three Founders would come back from their graves and personally rip the Sorting Hat to shreds if that were to happen."

Hermione laughed softly.

"At least Crabbe and Goyle do know about self-preservation," she commented.

"Yes," he conceded before the last traces of his smile turned into a sneer, “which is something you would learn if you were a bit more intelligent."

Her eyes narrowed, and she was about to come back with an angry retort of her own when he continued speaking.

"Now, let's go. We don't need professors catching us, or I will have no choice but to take you to Dippet."

With that said, he literally dragged her along with him.

Her struggles against his hold were pitiful. Twisting her arm around in his hand merely made an aching sore develop over where he was holding her. If she could see the skin, she was positive it would be flaming red by now, and yet he did not so much as loosen his grip or stagger in his stride.

She threatened to scream and alert others, but the moment the words left her mouth, a Silencing Charm was thrown her way. She made a grab for her wand. However, to her surprise, it was missing. She patted her other pocket but still could not find it. Therefore, she tugged Tom's sleeve, trying to catch his attention, but he would not stop. So, she planted her whole weight on her feet and grabbed his arm with her hand.

He finally turned his head, but continued walking.

"Now what?" he snapped, irritated with her.

 _My wand_ , she mouthed to him frantically, worried that it might be lying in the corridor, waiting for someone to pick it up. What if someone cast illegal spells with it? What if someone used the Killing Curse with her wand?

An odd glint passed through his eyes.

"You won't be needing it," he replied before he turned his head around.

However, Hermione was not one to give up without a fight, especially when it was something this important to her. Apparently, Tom had enough with her struggles, since he turned around, grabbed her around the waist, and flung her onto his shoulder.

"If you can't walk properly, we'll just have to do it this way, won't we, Granger?" he snarled. "If you hit me, I will make true of my threat to immobilize you."

That, however, was hardly enough to stop her because when she noticed that they were heading towards the second floor, she immediately began fighting with every ounce of strength she could muster. The moment she moved, Tom flung another spell at her and her whole body immediately froze.

As they reached the second floor corridor and he started walking towards the direction of Myrtle's toilet, her heart sank, and she felt her heart freeze like the rest of her body.

_Perhaps we're going somewhere else. Perhaps there's something else on the second floor._

Oh, who was she kidding? But she grabbed on to any tendrils of hope she could because Merlin knew how frightened she was. She knew she had been a stupid blabbermouth when she had blurted out that she was a Muggle-born. Now, he was properly taking her to her horrible, horrible death.

_Just like the devil coming to collect his souls._

Although she doubted the devil needed to haul the souls over his shoulders.

"I thought you were supposed to be intelligent, Granger," he mocked while he continued to walk, seemingly unaffected by her extra weight. "Somehow, every little action you do outside of class seems to prove me wrong."

 _And I thought you were supposed to be civilized, you wretched caveman_ , she thought, very much infuriated by him.

Not that her thoughts were too far-fetched, seeing that their destination, if she were correct, could be considered a cave.

If she were not under the Full Body Bind, she would have shivered at the thought of the beast that hid inside that "cave." Images of her friends and family flashed through her mind.

There were still so many things she wanted to do, things that she had not gotten the chance to do. She had not gotten the chance to properly say good-bye to her parents. They were going to be so worried when she never contacted them again ... And Harry! Oh, dear Harry was going to rush to his death when she did not appear tomorrow morning. She had to stop him ... But how?

She glared at the back of Tom's head, vowing to come back as a ghost and haunt him forever.

However, the moment he placed her paralyzed body against a sink in Myrtle's toilet, all thoughts of revenge got pushed to the back of her mind. If she remembered correctly—and she knew she did since she had been standing in front of it for nearly an eternity before Ron got it to move—the sink she was leaning against was precisely the entrance to ...

Her eyes darted around, trying to look for signs of the toilet's resident ghost, but she was nowhere to be found. Hermione mentally cursed her bad luck.

For she would honestly rather be in any other situation than standing in the middle of the haunted girls' toilet, in fear of what might be going on behind Tom Marvolo Riddle's calculating, impassive mask.

~-0-~

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **A/N** : Many thanks to my betas, tormented eyes, catcachoo (from PI), and Nerys! 


	32. Chapter 32

 

**Chapter 32**

He leaned against the wall directly across from her, crossed his legs at his ankles, and folded his arms across his chest. It was the perfect picture of leisure and carelessness if it were not for that contemplative look on his face. All the while, he never took his eyes off her until finally, he spoke.

"You're nervous."

Since she was still under the Silencing Charm, she did not have too much of a choice; she could only wait for him to continue.

What had she been thinking when she thought that things would have been easier to talk about without Harry, Draco, and Ginny around? Things were  _ **never**_  easy when it came down to Tom Marvolo Riddle. He was not Harry. He was not Ron. And he was certainly not Draco. She should have known before she sent the three of them away: Tom was not predictable. He was anything but predictable, exactly like his surname. He did things that completely threw her plans into the "unknown" and added random factors to it, until she did not even have an inkling of an idea about how to react and what to do next.

And then, he moved. She did not even have the chance to blink. With a fluid movement, he withdrew his wand and flicked it at the walls and then at her. Because she had expected either the Cruciatus or the Killing Curse to fly her way, she was more than surprised when nothing happened. Or at least, she thought that nothing had happened.

_Who knows? He doesn't like to do things according to the norm anyway. Perhaps the basilisk is hungry or something ..._

She blinked, and it was then that she noticed that her head could move. However, when she tried to move her body, she found out that the rest of it was still immobilized. During her attempts to move, she thought she heard a soft chuckle from his direction, but when she looked back at him, his face was expressionless once again.

"Why so, Hermione?" he asked.

As much as she tried, she could not deduce what he was thinking. His facade was firmly in place, without any traces of cracks or hints.

"Is this where you were going to bring me? To a girls' toilet? Although I've only been here once or twice, I'm pretty sure there are no books in here, Riddle," she snarked, mustering as much courage as she had and pushing away her fears.

"I never said that this was our final destination," he replied, the contents of his answer making her heart skip a beat again.

Slowly, he pushed himself away from the wall and walked up to her. Stopping right in front of her, he placed his hands on the sinks on either sides of her to support himself. He leaned forward until his face was mere centimeters away from hers.

"Why are you nervous, Hermione?"

_Because you hate Muggle-borns and a creature that hates Muggle-borns, too, lives just an entryway away?_

She swallowed, and she was sure her expression was telling, even if she were not looking at him. However, it was not something she could control, and the longer he waited, the more horrifying she pictured her death to be.

"Who said I was nervous?" she questioned him instead.

He raised his eyebrow, and a smile tugged at the corners of his lips, softening his features to those of an innocent, curious boy.

"Oh?" he simply inquired.

With a languid, sensual move, he straightened himself up and withdrew his wand, never taking his eyes off her face. Therefore, he quite clearly saw how her pupils dilated and how the breath hitched in the middle of her throat. Considering how close he stood, Hermione would not be surprised if he saw the throb of her pulse speeding up.

This was it. She was going to die. She thought about closing her eyes to wait for the moment the flash of green light hit her, but she could not pull her attention away from his yew wand as he twirled it effortlessly between his pale, long fingers.

Tilting his head slightly, he said, "Hm ... not nervous at all?"

"... No."

His smile widened. "Good."

She swallowed hard. She had no idea what he meant by that. Good? For what? Good for killing? Good for torturing? Good for being pet food?

She could feel her heart racing at an abnormal speed, but regardless of what she did, she could not get it to slow down. She swore it stopped for a second when he pointed the wand towards her, and her eyes finally landed on his face again. The amusement on his face was so apparent that in other cases, she would have snapped and felt annoyed.

If the basilisk did not kill her, heart failure would.

"Such an impressive, little ...  _ **Gryffindor**_ ," he mocked before lowering his wand.

She was about to relax when he spoke in Parseltongue, causing her to stop in the middle of exhaling. Frantically, she turned her head around, expecting the sink behind her to turn into the tunnel that led down to the Chamber of Secrets. Then, she remembered that that was a very bad idea, since the snake could be right there, waiting to stare into her eyes. So, she turned her head forward again.

_But I'll fall down the stupid tunnel ... though looking won't make the fall any easier on me ... wait ... why isn't the sink moving?_

To say that she was confused was an understatement. Looking back at Tom, she found that his expression had turned contemplative once more and the smile gone from his face.

She mentally cursed when she recognized it for what it was: It was a trap, and she had stupidly walked into it. Her mind quickly went through the options she had. What could she say? The move was ... too telling, and he would definitely ask her how she knew about the entrance to the Chamber of Secrets.

Then, he looked at her. After what seemed like an eternity, he exhaled heavily and turned around. He walked back to the wall he had been leaning on and rapidly tapped it at several places, all the while hissing something in that peculiar language of his. The tiles and the bricks behind them slid apart, revealing a staircase, and very slowly, Hermione's heart started to slow down to a normal rate when she saw no signs of killer monsters emerging from the darkness.

Swirling around, he strode towards her again and tilted her chin upwards so that he was looking directly into her eyes. After staring at her for a moment, he finally spoke.

"You know where we are."

She blinked once. Drawing a deep breath, she glanced around the room and plastered what she hoped looked like a genuine confused look, even though her previous actions were far from inconspicuous.

"Er ... the girls' toilet?"

His eyes narrowed, and his fingers curled themselves into a tight grip on her chin as he moved even closer to her.

"Enough of your silly games, Granger," he said quietly. "It was quite obvious you know precisely where we're standing and where what you're sitting on will lead you."

"I ... have no idea what you're talking about," she lied, mentally cursing herself when she heard how shaky her voice was. However, she could not, for the life of her, think of any other reason why she would turn around and stare at the sink when he spoke in Parseltongue.

His gaze hardened.

"Fine," he snapped, and in a swift move, she was over his shoulders again. "If you want to play like this, we'll do it your way."

"Wait—Tom—what are you doing?" she squeaked.

Her heart sped up, and she frantically swiveled her head around, hoping she could find any signs of a ghost or human.

"What do you think I'm doing, Hermione?"

"Where—where are we going?" she stuttered as her eyes widened with each step he took towards the staircase.

He did not answer her, which made her even more frightened.

"No—wait—please!" she shrieked.

Merlin, why was there no one coming to her rescue? She had been screaming so loudly.

And then she recalled that he had cast an unknown spell at the walls.

Dear Godric, she was going to die. He was going to kill her and leave her body down there to rot, wherever he was taking her. Nobody would know what happened to her. Did the staircase lead to the Chamber of Secrets? What if there were more basilisks hidden inside Hogwarts?

Where were Harry and the sword of Gryffindor when she needed them?

Suddenly, he placed her down with her back against the wall next to the archway.

"What's the matter, Hermione? Frightened of a girls' bathroom now?" he mocked.

She swallowed, and if her body were not under the spell, she would undoubtedly be shaking. He tilted her head upwards and gazed at her, his expression void of emotions.

"One last chance, Hermione," he spoke softly, caressing her skin under his thumb, his gentle movements a big contrast to his threat.

When she still did not answer, he sighed exaggeratedly and made the move to pick her up again.

"Wait!" she yelled.

He stopped in his motions and glanced at her.

"I'm not interested in waiting again, Hermione, especially when I know it is simply a waste of my time," he replied.

"I—I'm just frightened—" she stammered. He raised an eyebrow, indicating his impatience. "I'm—Joseph and Gareth told me—a girl—a Ravenclaw dying in here—I—I just thought—"

A cold smirk appeared on his face as he straightened up. He cupped her cheek with his hand and his eyes glinted with mockery.

"And did they tell you why the girl was killed? Or that the person who ...  _ **accidentally**_  killed the girl was expelled?" he asked, his tone of voice sickeningly sweet.

She averted her eyes the moment Hagrid's endearing smile appeared in her mind's eye. She was not yet sure what Tom could see from her mind and what he could not. She had seen Hagrid a couple of times on school grounds, but she had never spoken to him. So, she could not afford to let Tom see the interactions she had had with the friendly half-giant. Not to mention the fact that Hagrid was much younger in this era, and the fifty years difference could be easily told.

"That is not the reason why you're afraid," he concluded.

Hermione swallowed hard, and after making sure her voice was not as shaky, she spoke. "Why wouldn't I be afraid? I may be a Gryffindor, but that doesn't mean I'm ready to die for no particular reason." She inhaled deeply. "I want to see my parents again. There are so many things to do, and I'm not ready to leave without doing something for the world out there." She stopped and bit her bottom lip.

"Like saving the house-elves," he added sarcastically.

She slightly narrowed her eyes at his remark. "Yes."

A small smile curved his lips, and he shook his head, momentarily dispersing the threatening air around him. However, the next minute, his face was wiped clean of emotions again when he stared at her.

A dark glint flashed through his eyes, and he raised his eyebrows. "Potter and Gareth must have told you about Hagrid being expelled for being the cause of Myrtle's  _ **unfortunate**_  death. So, Hermione, do tell me why you still feel frightened."

_Well, if he's going to kill me, it wouldn't matter if he knew about me knowing about the Chamber of Secrets ... as long as he doesn't know that Harry also knows about it ..._

As quickly as she could, she created a story in her mind and hoped that he would buy it. After all, if she kept details to a minimum, it could be considered "the truth."

"I ... There were too many things unanswered," she responded.

"Unanswered ...?"

"Yes," she replied. "It ... it didn't make sense, since people who knew Hagrid expressed disbelief about him being the person who killed Myrtle."

"Joseph Potter," he named.

She was unsure whether this would harm Joseph or not, but in the current situation, she could only nod.

"He's ... one of them," she answered vaguely. "So ... I decided to investigate."

He laughed lightly as if he heard a mildly funny joke. "Investigate?"

His slightly condescending reaction made Hermione miffed, but given the condition she was in, there was nothing she could do.

If and when she got the chance though ...

"Yes, investigate," she said in a clipped tone of voice. "I've read about the Chamber of Secrets in  _Hogwarts, A History_ , and I asked around about it. It was impossible for Hagrid to be the Heir of Slytherin."

She stole a glance at him and found a sardonic smile lingering at the corners of his lips.

"Continue," he ordered, indicating that he was still listening.

"I continued looking through books, but I've found nothing more about the Chamber of Secrets, since it was only considered a myth," she told him. "However, Myrtle's death directly proves this so-called myth to be true, even though the professors discourage belief in it. A few weeks ago, I came here, the scene of Myrtle's death. Through my  _ **investigation**_ ," she placed emphasis on the word, "I found a carving of a serpent protruding from the tap of the sink. It's the only one in Hogwarts with it."

She looked at him again and, much to her surprise, saw a quick flash of approval on his features, though his next words contradicted it.

"The taps in the Slytherin dungeons have those engravings in them, too," he pointed out.

"The only one outside the Slytherin dorms," she corrected, rolling her eyes before she could stop herself. "Anyway, regardless of what I tried, I could not get it to open, and then I recalled reading about Slytherin being a Parselmouth. So, I figured that perhaps the only way to open the Chamber of Secrets is through Parseltongue. Then, that ... that day ..." A furious blush erupted on her cheeks. "... in ... in your room ... when we ...when we ... you ... you spoke in Parseltongue ... so ... I kind of ... made the connection ..."

By the time she was finally finished, her face was so warm that she swore she could fry eggs on them.

 _Wrong time, wrong reactions, wrong memories_ , she thought to herself.

He fell silent, quietly eying her. The next second, however, he hauled her over his shoulder again, and he did not stop despite her yells.

Her heart thudded painfully against her chest, and she felt cold sweat breaking out across her skin. Merlin, she was too young to die. She had thought that her story was perfect, flawless. Even though the last part of it was a lie, she had not been looking at him, and her embarrassment could have easily covered it up. How had he known that it was false?

_Or maybe it is because you just accused him of being a murderer? Brilliant, Hermione. Now, your body will lie in the Chamber forever. And rot. Or maybe digested inside the basilisk's stomach._

Her breathing sped up as that notion truly anchored itself into her mind.

_Why did I think it was a good idea to let him know that I know he's the Heir of Slytherin again?_

When they entered the secret passage, the barrier behind them sealed up on its own accord, causing Hermione to swallow. She was certain that nobody would ever find her corpse now. Why did she think it was a good idea to not tell him the truth again? However, she still could not bring herself to say the words; she knew deep in her heart that she could not betray Harry like that.

Her screaming seemed to irritate him, since he placed the Silencing Charm on her again. The silence that fell over them caused Hermione's skin to crawl, even though she was still thinking of ways to fight back.

Echoes of his footsteps on the marble stairs made it almost seem as if there were unseen phantoms walking in front of and behind them. Even though she was still mentally cursing the Slytherin Head Boy, she could not help but take in how delicately designed the staircase was. Although it was merely a staircase hidden behind a secret passageway, it was perhaps more fitting for the palace of the king of snakes. Despite the fact that it had been sealed up for so many years, she could not feel any traces of humidity in the air, nor could she find any traces of cobwebs. Hermione supposed that there were some sort of charm placed on it to prevent any sort of contamination or damage.

Candelabras on the walls of both sides of the stairs flared to life as they walked passed them, allowing her to see the snakes carved into the arms supporting the candles. The candles cast flickers of light onto the railings, momentarily tricking the viewer into believing that they were made of gold, rather than silver. The light caught on the intricate carvings of the wall, which turned out to be a withering mass of snakes. For a second, she was certain that should she reach out, their scales would slide against her hand as they slithered away from her. The precious stones that made up their eyes glinted maliciously when the candlelight reflected off them, causing a cold, numbing feeling to run down Hermione's spine.

She averted her eyes, only to catch sight of the end of the staircase. This could not possibly lead to the Chamber of Secrets, which was located all the way at the bottom of the lake, unless there was some kind of shortening-distance spell that Slytherin had cast on it.

When they reached the bottom of the stairs at what seemed like a dead end, Tom placed her against the wall of bricks there and studied her frightened features intently. With a flick of his hand, the Silencing Charm was taken off her. The overabundance of fear swirling around her body made her slightly faint, and the creative names she had been calling him in her mind immediately came tumbling out of her mouth the moment she could start talking again. The vulgarities caused a frown to appear on his forehead.

"Hush," he said quietly, and his softly spoken command reverberated throughout the closed area they were in.

Being still clear-headed enough to discern that this was not the time to be defiant, she snapped her mouth shut and kept her eyes on him fearfully. Satisfied that she had obeyed his words, he twirled a strand of her hair around his fingers and tilted his head slightly to the side.

"You weren't surprised about the fact that I knew Legilimency. It was almost as if ... you expected it. Why?"

Slightly taken aback by the random question, she hesitated before answering.

"There were books on your table."

It was something she remembered from her conversations with Draco, and she did not recall at all if there were still books on his table when she was in his dorm. Therefore, when he did not speak but merely continued to stare at her, she swallowed hard. However, for the life of her, she could not remember—she did not even know which table was his, and she was too irritated to care that day.

"Draco ... told me about it," she said reluctantly.

A single eyebrow rose at her declaration.

"Mr. Malloy again." The words slid off his tongue in an almost contemplative matter.

Hermione hoped that she had not inadvertently given him another reason to harm Draco.

"He mentioned it in passing because we somehow started talking about you," she quickly added.

"Talking about me?" he asked as if he found the idea preposterous. "Do satisfy my curiosity, Granger: Why was I even mentioned in your conversations with  _ **Draco**_?"

At his words, Hermione could barely keep her frustration in check, causing her to neglect the mocking undertone to which he said Draco's name with.

"If you don't remember, Riddle," she answered, unable to keep the sneer off her face, "you've recently Cruciated him. Since I obviously know about that, why wouldn't we talk about it?"

He apparently found her anger funny, since a smile curved his lips again. "Pardon me. I'd forgotten that  _ **Draco**_  had complained to you about that, but that hardly explains why you are not surprised about the fact that I know Legilimency."

Hermione raised her eyebrows instead. "You've had the books for months. You can't possibly tell me that you doubt your intelligence. Or did you think I was stupid enough to underestimate your ability to learn things?"

He laughed at her comment. His eyes glinted merrily when they landed on her again.

"Perhaps I am, Granger. Perhaps I am just so desperately looking for approval from the people around me and I never really trusted my own intelligence to begin with," he said, feigning a hopeless expression.

She rolled her eyes to the ceiling. "That'll be the day."

The two of them then took a look at one another, and before she knew it, they were both laughing. For a moment, Hermione nearly forgot the fact that they were standing in the middle of Merlin-knows-where and that she was still immobilized.

"You don't know Occlumency," he suddenly uttered after they stopped laughing.

The change of subject was so abrupt that Hermione was caught off guard. Thankfully, it was more of a statement than a question and did not require an answer. Sure enough, he began talking shortly afterwards.

"The only way the information could have been blocked is through a powerful magical barrier ..."

His words caused Hermione to frown.

"What barrier?" she asked bluntly.

He scrutinized her for a moment, and she was sure that he was deciding whether she was faking it or not. In the end, he seemed to be satisfied with what he saw because his expression softened slightly. However, he did not answer her question. Instead, he continued to think out loud, thoroughly confusing her.

"Perhaps Dumbledore?" He paused and then shook his head. "No, that kind of spell is too—" His lips curved into a sneer as he looked off to the side. "— _dark_  for the 'noble' Albus Dumbledore ..." He glanced at her and his gaze took on a teasing glow. "And it's impossible for someone with no Legilimency and Occlumency skills to cast that spell." His eyebrows furrowed. "The caster, without doubt, would have erased all magical traces afterwards ..."

Tom trailed off as he immersed himself in deep thoughts. Since he had been unwilling to share information, Hermione could only think about it herself.

It then hit her that he was talking about the blockage that occurred when he tried to see what books she was looking for. Her first thought was that some power, most likely time, was hindering with his Legilimency and preventing him from seeing the future and things related to it. However, it appeared that the information could have been blocked because of some other form of magic.

Contrary to Tom, she knew that Dumbledore would not hesitate to use darker forms of magic "for the greater good." So, she would not be surprised at all if it turned out that it was him who had cast the spell on her. Nonetheless, before she saw Dumbledore again, she would not know the answer.

"What barrier is it?" she asked.

He looked at her, his head slightly tilted, and Hermione could tell that he was still thinking.

"That," he said slowly in the end, "is none of your concern."

Her eyes narrowed. What kind of an answer was that? It was none of her concern?

_Excuse me, but this is my brain here. I would think that I have the right to know if some idiot's been tampering with my memories._

"What—" she started to say again, but he placed his finger on her lips before she could finish speaking.

"Shh ..." he said. With a sigh, he continued, "We're running out of time. I daresay, I'd need to put you under the Full Body Bind again later on."

She gazed at him, alarmed. A soft chuckle escaped his lips when he saw her expression, and leaning forward, he gently kissed her on the cheek.

"Have you also ...  _ **investigated**_  about what lives in the Chamber of Secrets?" he whispered into her ear.

Goosebumps erupted across her skin again, though this time, it was not purely from fear. Shaking the inappropriate thoughts away, she slowly nodded.

"And your results?"

Her eyes flickered around, and she was more than glad that he could not see them right now because it would undoubtedly give away how nervous she was.

"Since ... it is rumored that only the direct descendant of Slytherin can control the creature that lives in the Chamber of Secrets, I deduced that perhaps it should be some kind of snake."

Her voice turned a bit unsteady as his fingers caressed the other side of her neck and he placed small kisses on her cheek.

"And?"

"Well ..." Her breath momentarily hitched when his lips reached that sensitive part right beneath her ear.

"Hm?" he pressed on.

She swallowed and continued, "There are none more deadly than the king of serpents—" She inhaled deeply. "—the basilisk."

She felt his lips curve into a smile before he pulled away.

"Excellent work, Hermione," he complimented as he touched her cheek gently.

He gazed at her, and that contemplative expression was back on his face again. So, she lowered her eyes and concentrated on following the intricate pattern carved into the tiles on the floor. Finally, he spoke.

"You never considered telling the professors about your findings," he said, causing her to look back at him.

She fought the urge to roll her eyes. "I'm not an idiot, Riddle."

He chuckled at her statement, which made her want to punch him.

Clenching her teeth together, she continued, "First of all, why would the professors believe a foreigner? Second of all, there is no proof. Lastly, it is really ... none of my business, and I don't want to get involved with things that have nothing to do with me."

He raised an eyebrow. "Contradictory statements, Granger. You got yourself involved the moment you started to  _ **investigate**_."

Fear gripped to her heart once more. She was walking on a fine line between life and death, but there was nothing else she could do, especially now when she had indirectly admitted that she knew that he was the Heir of Slytherin and the murderer of Myrtle.

"I didn't realize what I was getting myself into at the beginning," she replied in a soft voice. "Neither had I known what I was going to find out."

"You're regretting your decisions?" he asked, amused.

"No," she replied.

"No?" he questioned her, a touch of surprise entering his words.

"I doubt I'd be able to contain my curiosity ..." she answered, allowing her sentence to trail off. She shook her head. "No, I wouldn't have been able to stop myself from finding out the truth."

Silence fell over them after she stopped talking, until he murmured, "You  _ **are**_  ... odd."

She blinked and furrowed her eyebrows in irritation. How was she odd now?

However, he did not bother to answer her question.

"I assume you know how the basilisk kills?"

She nodded. "Its venom and its glare."

A cold, vile smirk appeared on his face as he ran a single finger down the side of her cheek and lingered on her jawline.

"I trust, then, that you wouldn't need me to advise you to keep your eyes shut until I tell you to? It would be such a pity for you to go the same way dear Myrtle did."

Alarms went off in her head at the insinuation that they were going to come face to face with a basilisk. It appeared that they were going into the Chamber of Secrets after all, and there was more than one way that led down there. She should have known. The notion of Slytherin or Lord Voldemort sliding down a disgusting pipeline had been ridiculously hilarious when Harry told her who the Heir of Slytherin was. It should have been obvious that there had to be simpler ways to travel downwards.

However, she doubted that he would kindly take her back to the school now if she asked.

He abruptly turned towards the wall to the right of her. Hermione quickly snapped her eyes shut as the strange tones of Parseltongue reached her ears followed by the sounds of bricks rearranging themselves. When the final stone slid into place, she felt Tom pick her up again.

"Regardless of what happens, keep your eyes closed. There is nothing I can do if you stare into the basilisk's eyes."

Without her eyes opened, she could not see where they were heading. The loss of sight heightened her uneasiness, and the urge to take a peek was only pushed back by the fear of seeing a pair of bulbous, yellow eyes.

After a small distance, he stopped in his stride and placed her on the floor. She desperately wanted to hold on to him, but due to the spell she was under, she could not move. She slightly calmed down when she heard him hiss and spit without drawing breath right next to her—he had not moved away. It was not much, but she took whatever amount of comfort she could from that fact. At least, that meant the basilisk was not going to move in for the kill. Therefore, she very nearly started screaming when she heard another source of hissing directly in front of her.

Recalling Tom's words, she scrunched her eyes together, determined to keep it shut. Tom's arm suddenly wound around her waist, and he said something to the basilisk. Her heart slowed down to a manageable rate with his presence, though the logical side of her mind "kindly" reminded her that he could easily throw her towards the giant snake in front of them in the next second.

She mildly registered that the two of them were having some kind of conversation, and the moment she felt something— _ **the basilisk's tongue**_ —flickering against the skin of her hand, she stopped breathing and bit down on the inside of her cheek.

"You might want to reconsider biting too hard into your cheek, Granger. Not that it will make a difference to the basilisk, since it can smell the Muggle blood in you anyway, but the stronger the smell, the more ...  _ **enticing**_  it is," he whispered into her ear.

The amusement in his voice was telling, and she could tell just how much he was enjoying her discomfort. To disregard his advice, however, would be beyond stupid, so she immediately loosened her jaw. However, her fear hardly dissipated as she listened to the two snakes converse over her head.

After what seemed like an eternity, she finally heard the sounds of the monster's heavy body slithering away from her.

"You may open your eyes now," Tom informed her once there were no more sounds of movement.

The Chamber of Secrets was exactly how she recalled it, except without the skeleton of the basilisk. She momentarily wondered how Slytherin managed to build all of this in secret. The wandwork and magic required to make such a feat was fascinating and beyond what Hermione could imagine. Honestly, with the three of them—Harry, Ron, and her—it had been nearly impossible to do something without Dumbledore finding out. Slytherin, however, did this without Gryffindor, Ravenclaw, and Hufflepuff noticing it. How had he done it? Unfortunately, she knew that she was not going to find answers to that any time soon, which was quite irritating because she had been so accustomed to finding answers from books.

Her eyes took in more details of the Chamber of Secrets. To the right of them stood the gigantic statue of Salazar Slytherin. She was still very uncomfortable with the fact that she was in such close proximity to the notorious creature, even though she knew the basilisk would not come until Tom called for it. Additionally, it was not exactly comforting that she had no idea why he brought her down here.

"Why ... did you bring me down here?" she asked cautiously.

"Hm ... it's almost time for the basilisk to have a midnight snack ..." he trailed of jokingly.

"Very funny," she remarked dryly.

He chuckled at her reaction. "Well, the basilisk was so very disappointed."

She wondered if she dared to ask why. However, it was not required since he continued speaking on his own accord.

"It was rather hungry," he said, looking off in the direction Hermione assumed the basilisk might be in.

Her skin crawled when she realized just how near death she had been.

"But since you've been such a somewhat ...  _ **accommodating**_  girl today, I suppose I can let you live," he uttered, so casually that he could have been talking about the weather. "I believe there's something in here that might interest you."

Swallowing her fear, she laughed shakily.

"I doubt the basilisk can be considered a book," she commented.

He raised his eyebrow again. "Secrets, Granger. Plural. Did you really think this place was simply built to house a giant serpent?" He circled around her body until he was standing behind her. "Now, care to tell me what you were looking for in the library?"

She blinked, her mind moving much too slowly for her liking. She had thought that he had let that topic slide.

"I've ... told you already," she replied, her voice very nearly a whisper.

"Not the complete truth," he said sharply.

The harsh tone of voice he implemented caused her mouth to snap shut. It took a while, but she managed to gather enough courage to open her mouth again.

"Why would we need to nick other books?" she asked in return. "There aren't other immediate threats, nor are there other possible reasons why we would risk expulsion to sneak into the library."

His lips curved into a cold smile. "That's precisely what I want to know, Hermione. What is so important that a magical barrier was needed to conceal information in your mind? The only person that comes to my mind who would go to this length to protect you is Dumbledore, and that in itself is suspicious. Why did he feel the need to conceal whatever information is hidden behind that barrier?" He grabbed her chin and forced her to face him again, placing quite a bit of strain on her neck. "I felt your panic when I nearly saw the title of the book you were looking for, Granger, and I prefer your pretense to end tonight."

"Look, I don't know why there was even a barrier erected in my brain. I didn't even know about it until you told me. How would I know why some idiot found it funny to protect information in my mind? It's not my fault. If you really want to know the answer, why don't you ask the person who bothered to cast that spell on me?" she ranted angrily. She took a deep breath and went on, "I went to look for information about how to travel. If you don't believe me, bring me back to the Gryffindor tower, and I'll show you the books, for Merlin's sake! And why wouldn't I panic if you were threatening to get me expelled from Hogwarts?"

She was a taking a chance with her words. She only guessed that things pertaining to time travel were concealed, but she could not be sure. She limited her words to merely "travel" while she was thinking of "time travel", therefore, telling a half-truth rather than lying. She hoped that the trigger word was, indeed, "time travel" and that would bring in the magical barrier.

Tom stared at her silently again. After a while, he released her face and picked her up again. Frustration completely pushed her fear away and instead of cringing in fear, she felt the urge to kick him. Unfortunately, she was still immobilized, so she could only start cursing at him.

"Granger, would you just shut your mouth already?" he finally spoke up as they stopped in front of another wall on the other side of the Chamber.

He placed her upright again, allowing her to glare at him properly.

"Right, because it's completely normal for a person to shut up when they are in danger of dying the next minute," she retorted.

"And it's completely normal for a person who's worried about dying to scream vulgarities at the one who might kill them," he snapped. "Very intelligent, Granger. Every second passing proves to me that your cleverness was overrated."

Without saying another word, he swirled towards the wall. Momentarily, she wondered how he could tell where every single passageway was. In her opinion, the walls looked almost the same to her. Every five steps or so, there would be an engraving of two snakes in a circle, biting one another's tail while a snake with nine heads was coiled in the center. She and Tom were standing in front of one of the Merlin-knows-how-many engravings.

Softly, he hissed at the barrier. The two snakes in a circle released one another's tail while the hydra in the middle recoiled into the position of a snake getting ready to attack. The carving then slid to the right, revealing the bricks behind it which were swiftly moving apart to form an archway. The candelabras nearest to the doorway inside the room lit up on their own when the bricks finally stopped moving.

The moment he moved her inside, she was immediately distracted. She did not even notice the fact that he had taken the immobilization spell off her and she could move again, nor did she see the bricks slide back into place after they passed through the archway, sealing off the entrance.

The room was circular with green carpet covering the entire floor. The main light source was a chandelier that hung above the middle of the room. Right below it was an enormous redwood table surrounded by green armchairs and sofas. Sitting on top of the seating furniture were pillows covered with silver materials. Engravings of snakes coiled around the legs of the tables and chairs. However, those were not the details that caught Hermione's attention.

Books! Volumes and volumes of books!

Her eyes brightened considerably as her brain registered the fact that though there might not be as many books in the room as in the library, there were many tomes in here that could not be found anywhere else in the world. Except for the wall above the doorway and a small area surrounding it, the entire wall was covered from the ceiling to the floor with books. In addition to the collection on the walls, more than forty bookshelves were arranged in a semi-circle around the room.

More candelabras hung from the sides of the bookshelves, providing extra light for the reading area in the middle of the room. Snakes were, again, carved on the arms that held up the candles. Images of serpents could also be seen embroidering the edges of the bookshelves as well as coiling around the pillars that held up the roof of the room.

Her body acknowledged its freedom quicker than her mind did, and she excitedly rushed over to one of the bookshelves and gazed almost fanatically at the titles. To her surprise, some of the texts had no names on their spines.

"Some of them were written by Slytherin himself, so you will not find names on them," he said, answering her unasked question.

"The bookshelves have empty spaces in them," she commented, looking pointedly at the random vacancies throughout the room.

"The books on the walls were already here when I first found this place," he answered as he sat down on one of the sofas. "Slytherin concealed his writings, other books, and objects he deemed worthy inside the Chamber of Secrets with riddles, spells, and other challenges. It took me a whole school year to find the books you're looking at right now."

Grudgingly, she had to admit that he was quite clever for finding so many books. Although he had said "a whole school year," she knew that in that school year, he also had to avoid attracting Dumbledore's attention as well as keep up with his schoolwork.

She looked back at him, and though it was the most improper moment, she could not look away. She had no idea if he had done it on purpose or not, but the way he sat there on the sofa was far too ... eye-catching. The dim light from the candles caressed his flawless, pale skin softly, accentuating the alluring darkness inherently in him. He drummed one of his hands absentmindedly on his knee while his other arm rested on the edge of the back of the sofa.

She had no doubt that if it were another girl in her shoes right now, they would have jumped on top of him and started to snog him senseless. Merlin, if it were Lavendar or Parvati, they would probably have started pulling off his robes already.

 _Lucifer was known as the most beautiful angel before he fell_ , a voice reminded her at the back of her head.

And this was certainly all the proof she needed.

"Have you read through all the books?" she asked, trying to pry her eyes away from the appealing scene in front of her.

It did not help that she remembered what was beneath those layers of clothes. Definitely not helpful at all.

"Not yet," he replied, picking up one of the tomes from the table. They were apparently left there from his previous visits.

Her cheeks flushed red as she watched the way his extraordinarily long fingers turned the pages of the gigantic book. Images of the  _ **other**_ ways he had used them on her entered her mind's eye, throwing her into a rather awkward position. So, she cleared her throat and pushed her hair away from her face. He looked up from the book on his lap and gazed at her.

"There are books on international traveling?" she asked when she had his attention.

"There might be," he answered, a smirk in place. "You may look through the books, you know?" His hand gestured at the many bookshelves in the room.

She raised her eyebrows, and he looked back at her with the same expression, causing her to throw up her hands in frustration. His eyebrow rose even further.

"Or was I mistaken and you had no interest in the books?"

"Oh, stop faking it, Riddle. What's the catch?" she asked suspiciously.

He tilted his head to one side. "Tsk ... must I have an ulterior motive to everything I do?"

"Yes," she answered deadpan.

He laughed, too happily in her opinion, before he motioned for her to go closer to him. She narrowed her eyes, crossed her arms over her chest, and made no movements at all. He placed the book back on the table and placed his arm back on the back of the sofa, resting his chin on his propped up hand.

"We don't have all day, Granger," he said.

"I realized that," she sneered, "which was why I wanted to know what the downside of this is. I find it hard to believe that you are willing to share something like this, especially when this indirectly proves to me that ..."

She bit her lower lip.

"That Myrtle died because of the basilisk?" he finished her sentence coldly.

"... Yes," she whispered.

"Which is why I need you over here right now. Do come over, Granger. I am not in the mood to chase you around the room," he replied, his expression emotionless.

"Why?" she asked.

"Well, if you prefer to stand there ..." he trailed off tiresomely and stood up from the sofa.

She took a step back for every move he took towards her, and then suddenly, he stopped and grinned. Making sure he had her attention, his hand slid into his pocket and withdrew something.

Her eyes widened when she saw what was in his hand.

_**Her wand.** _

Her fear was immediately forgotten as she stomped up to him and grabbed the piece of wood he was holding out towards her.

"You—you vile, evil—disgusting, annoying—" she sputtered, ignoring the amusement on his face. "How dare you—You had my wand the whole—I was worried and you pretended—"

"Now that you have your wand back," he said, disregarding her anger, "my conditions are simple, Granger. You are not to speak a word about the Chamber of Secrets to anyone."

She was still glaring at him furiously and considering if she should knee him again when he sighed.

"Are you listening, Granger? Or do we need to do this the hard way?" he asked indifferently.

However, before he finished speaking, she whipped her wand through the air and threw a Stinging Hex at him. His wards were up before her spell hit him, and within seconds her wand was in his hand again.

"Apparently, you cannot be allowed to hold on to your wand, Granger," he spoke as if he were talking to a five-year-old. "Now, should I just Obliviate you and throw you back upstairs or are you going to listen?"

"Give me back my wand," she said, her voice dangerously low.

"Not before we're back in the school," he replied. With a quick flick of his wand, her wand got Banished. "Now stop being unreasonable and listen."

"When and if you give me back my wand," she said.

"No bargaining allowed, Granger. You're in my territory so I suggest you follow  _ **my**_  rules," he replied coldly.

Still glaring at him, she willed herself to calm down. There were a lot of books in here. Perhaps she might even find books about time traveling. With that thought in mind, she slightly calmed down, though not completely.

"So we can do the Unbreakable Vow," she said through gritted teeth.  _The nose isn't all that unbreakable._

"We do not have a bonder, Granger, and I am not about to bring someone else down here," he said.

"Then you'll just have to take my word for it that I'm not going to tell anyone," she snapped.

He looked at her condescendingly, letting her know exactly how he felt about her suggestion. A frown then settled in place as he thought of a solution. Hermione impatiently tapped her foot on the floor as she thought of the perfect way to maim him for snitching her wand  _ **twice**_. Punch him in the face? Recalling his reflexes from their previous encounters, she was sure that he had enough time to react before her fist connected with his nose. Perhaps she should stomp on his foot this time. It was the perfect distance away and it was a less conspicuous move...

Before she could make up her mind, however, he had already made his decision. He grabbed her and turned her around so that her back was towards him. Caught by surprise, she did not have enough time to react and he was already holding her in his embrace with one arm. He swirled his wand above his head before whipping it straight out ahead of them. His hand twisted and turned, and misty white flashes left the end of his wand. Sibilant tones left his mouth as the flashes connected with one another, forming longer strands of white. The strings slowly enveloped around Hermione, elongating and coiling around her as Tom continued to hiss in Parseltongue. Finally, the last syllable left his mouth, and the white mist settled onto her skin and disappeared.

It was all finished before she could stop him from what he was doing. The moment she thought about protesting, he had already released her and moved away. She whirled around and stared at him.

"What was that?" she immediately asked.

"Nothing that ... concerns you unless you attempt to be foolish," he replied ambiguously, walking down an aisle and browsing through the books.

"What do you mean 'attempt to be foolish?'" she pressed on.

He leisurely took a book out and flipped through it. "As in trying to tell your wonderful friends about anything related to the Chamber of Secrets."

"But—" she started to say but snapped her mouth shut in the last minute.

He was not supposed to know that Harry and Ginny knew already.

"I doubt there is someone else here who's a Parselmouth. However, even if there is, the basilisk is neither kind nor merciful to strangers or Muggle-borns. To walk in here without my company ..." he trailed off, his lips curving into another cold smirk before he placed his concentration back on the book.

She nibbled her lower lip and glared at him. A short moment later, he looked up again.

"Granger, are you planning on staring at me for the whole night? I thought your travel to Germany was so very important."

Resisting the urge to stick out her tongue at him, she turned around and walked into another aisle.

"Where's the international traveling section?" she asked after searching for a while, still unable to keep her voice overly friendly.

"The books are in alphabetical order," he replied.

"Then what's the title of the book?" she questioned him.

"I wouldn't remember now, would I?" he answered, and this time his voice was a lot closer than before. Sure enough, he appeared at the end of her aisle seconds later.

Her eyes narrowed again at his words. "You? Not remembering something?" A snort left her mouth before she could stop it.

"Now why would I hide that piece of information from you?" he asked, picking up a book from the shelf and leafing through it.

"How am I supposed to know?" she asked, her tone still suspicious.

There was something ... that seemed off about this, though she could not put her finger on it.

"Pray tell, Granger, why else would I risk letting you know who the Heir of Slytherin really is?" he sighed, replacing the book on the shelf and shaking his head. He gazed at her. "Such accusations after I had so ... kindly brought you down here. And here I am, trying to help you find the book, and you accused me of hiding it from you." He paused and tilted his head. "You do know that the invitation can be easily retracted."

Guilt caused her to blush, though she tried to tell herself that she should not feel it towards Tom Riddle out of all people. Additionally, the sheer amount of books in the room had her sold; she would never get a good night's sleep again knowing that there are hundreds, thousands of books down here that she could never touch again. Therefore, the words of apology passed through her lips before she could stop them.

"I'm sorry."

A corner of his lips twitched upwards. "Apology accepted."

She sighed out of relief when he turned back to the bookshelves, though there was still something nagging her at the back of her mind. She decidedly pushed it away—she was probably thinking too much into things. It was ridiculous, really. If he had wanted to hide that information away from her, he would not have brought her down here in the first place.

Therefore, a few minutes later, with the help of Tom, she carried a heap of books over to the armchairs in order to skim through them one by one rather than fuss over something that was so illogical.

"This is going to take eons," she muttered under her breath as she looked through the books that they had placed on the table.

"Let's hope not then," he replied, a smirk forming on his face.

She could not help but feel that he was not being sincere—she was positive he was not being sincere since it was Dumbledore who was involved. However, she knew it was pointless to argue with him about something like this. Instead, she pored through more books.

After an hour of fruitless searching—although she could hardly complain, since there were so many interesting theories in the texts—she placed another book on the table and leaned back on the sofa.

"Are you sure there's a book about international traveling in here?" she asked, mildly exhausted from the lack of sleep and excessive reading.

"I recalled seeing it somewhere," he answered vaguely, grabbing another book and flipping through it. He smiled. "I just can't remember which book it is."

It still struck Hermione as strange that he had forgotten something, since it did not seem like something that would happen to him. He had even remembered the chapter of the book that proved Longbottom's statement wrong. However, she also recalled Harry mentioning the fact that Lord Voldemort forgetting bits of old magic that formed Lily Potter's lingering protection on Harry. It should be ... normal for him to forget a book here and there. Right?

She discretely glanced at him, trying to see if she could get hints in regards to whether he was being truthful or not. However, he seemed so intent while looking through the books. She knew he was an excellent actor, but why would he spend his time like this? It did not make any sense to her.

Seconds passed, and when she could not find any clues, her mind began to drift off from its original goal. Instead, it started to register minor details about him while the yearning she had for him began to stir. She shifted uncomfortably in her seat, and she was more than glad that it had not alerted him. She would be too embarrassed if he used Legilimency on her because the current thoughts were definitely not protected by whatever the trigger word to the magical barrier was.

_Not normal, Granger. He threatened to kill you just a few hours before. Well, yes, he didn't go through with it, but it's not exactly the right time to think of ... those kinds of thoughts about him._

She mentally sighed. How was it possible that someone with the heart and mind of the devil could look so positively delectable? If only he were not so evil, she would have no problem drooling and swooning over him like the rest of the other girls in school. Not that it stopped her from staring absentmindedly at him right now, but that was beside the point.  _Completely_  beside the point.

She was just ... frustrated. Yes. Because he left her stranded so many times. It was unfair ... and she had the right to ogle at him like this. It was entirely his fault for teasing her and leaving her like that.

"Finished looking through the books?" he suddenly asked, tearing his attention away from the tome in his hands.

Flustered, she pushed a lock of hair away. "Mm ... I think so."

_Breathe in, breathe out. No reason to let him affect you like this._

Tom glanced at the hourglass trapped inside a glass sphere situated between two of the bookshelves against the wall near the entrance. Apparently, it told the time, though she had no idea how it worked.

Nor did she care at the moment.

"We still have a couple of hours before it's time for breakfast. We should get you back to the Gryffindor tower then," he said, standing up from his seat. "I wouldn't need to place you under the Full Body Bind to take you back up there, would I?" he teased.

"No ... no need for it," she muttered, trying her best to concentrate on what he was saying.

He must have noticed something was wrong with her, since he raised an eyebrow. However, he did not comment on it and simply held out his hand to her. Hesitantly, she placed her hand in it but was completely unprepared for what happened next. With a gentle tug, she fell into his embrace and he had his arms around her.

"I believe I deserve something in return for bringing you down here?" he inquired in a soft voice, causing a leap of excitement at the pit of her stomach.

Seconds later, his lips touched her, and her arms quickly wrapped themselves around his neck. He lowered her onto the sofa and his body pressed onto hers, almost as if he were trying to mold the two of them into one. His hands traveled up and down her body, creating delicious tingles where they touched, and she did not bother suppressing the moan. Feelings from his previous ministrations returned with a vengeance, and she pulled him closer, wanting to lose herself.

Just once, she promised herself. Just once more and she would let go.

But she knew it was a lie, deep down inside of her. It was far too late for her to let go.

Therefore, a strangled noise of protest left her mouth when he disconnected their contact. Before he could speak, however, she grabbed him by the tie and pulled him over.

"Tom Marvolo Riddle, you're not going to leave me like this again," she growled.

He chuckled. "I wouldn't want to rape you again, Hermione Granger."

She hissed, annoyed at his words. "Would you stop with the 'rape' already?"

"I wasn't the one who started going on and on about rape now, was I?" he retorted with a shrug.

"Even if it wasn't rape, it was still non-consensual," she insisted.

"Hm ... was it really?" he asked with a smirk. "You can't honestly tell me that you didn't need it, can you?"

Her face turned bright red at his words, but she had no retort for him.

"You didn't want some bloke to wait for you to make the first move—"

He kissed her on her forehead.

"—or else you wouldn't have been with me—"

He placed a kiss on her nose as his hand cupped her face and tilted it towards him.

"—You needed—"

His voice dropped to a whisper as he kissed her lips.

"—someone to take charge—"

Another kiss on her lips.

"—and force you—"

His tongue flickered out and traced her bottom lip.

"—to surrender."

She held her breath as his words sank into her mind. Fear clashed violently with excitement as the world swirled around her.

It could not be true. It could  _ **not**_  be true.

But she knew it was. And it was the reason why she could not reconcile it with herself.

"Do think about it clearly, Granger. I really do not have time for people who are so intent on deluding themselves."

He then made a move to detach himself from her which caused her to snap her out of her self-realization. A string of creative curse words left her mouth, and she tugged at his tie again, pulling his face over to hers.

"Ohhh, Granger. Are you going to 'rape' me now?" he mocked.

A frustrated noise answered his laughter. "Shut up, Riddle!"

With another tug, she then closed the distance between them and kissed him furiously.

And she would be damned if she allowed him to leave her unsatisfied again.

~-0-~

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **A/N** : Many thanks to tormented eyes, catcachoo (from PI), and Nerys for beta-ing the chapter! 


	33. Chapter 33

**Chapter 33**

As each minute passed, Harry grew more anxious, and Ginny kept fidgeting in her seat. Their breakfast remained untouched, and their eyes firmly stuck to the entrance of the Great Hall. It was eight twenty already, but a certain bushy-haired witch was still nowhere in sight.

Draco, too, was restless. Well, he had to admit that he was somewhat worried about Hermione. However, if the witch did not show up soon, Harry and Ginny were bound to pester him to take them to the Slytherin common room and find Riddle. The thought of confronting the Dark Lord, regardless the age of said Dark Lord ...

It would suffice to say that Draco Malfoy did not look forward to it at all.

"I think we should check the Slytherin common room," Harry spoke up, breaking up the tense silence on their end of the table. It was easy to tell how much it took him to keep his temper in check.

"It's not even nine yet," Draco pointed out immediately.

"She's usually here by eight," Harry argued. "Do you care about her or not, Malloy?"

"I didn't mean it  ** _that_**  way, Evans, but this was precisely what Hermione wanted to prevent us from doing," Draco said. "She told us breakfast so we should ... listen to her and wait until the end of breakfast before we rush to conclusions."

"He could be feeding her to ... to that  ** _thing_**  right now," Harry said with some difficulty.

"He had the whole night. She would've been digested by now," Draco corrected, which earned glares from both Harry and Ginny. He cleared his throat nervously. "I meant to say ... I'm sure she's alright. Riddle's nowhere in sight, too."

"And that should be considered a good thing?" Harry asked, his voice strained.

"I would think so. If Riddle were here alone and Hermione was not in sight ... that would be downright disturbing," Draco replied, his forehead creasing into a frown.

Not to mention the two Gryffindors would immediately drag themselves and  ** _him_**  to their deaths.

"We shouldn't have left Hermione alone with him. I mean, it's  ** _him_**. He could have brought her anywhere. He could set up her death in the Forbidden Forest and we could never find proof that he's the culprit behind it. Why did I ever let her talk me into leaving her alone with him? I should have known that this was going to turn out disastrous," Harry groaned, burying his face in his hands.

"We have to have a little faith in Hermione. She's clever enough not to go to Myrtle's toilet," Ginny whispered.

"Exactly! Hermione's clever. She's—Myrtle's toilet? What's wrong with Myrtle's toilet?" Draco demanded.

"The Chamber of Secrets," Ginny and Harry answered in unison.

"The Chamber—" Draco promptly paled.

"You're a pure-blood, Malloy. You shouldn't be concerned about what lives in there," Ginny pointed out.

"Yes, but ...  ** _someone's_**  not exactly fond of me at this moment," Draco answered anxiously, his voice a pitch higher than usual. "What if he releases it on me? Father told me that that thing only listened to the biddings of the Dark Lord. And I've  ** _stayed_**  in there on occasions."

The rumors that were being spread around the school were hardly enough to satiate Draco's curiosity. No one could give an answer to the simple question of where the Chamber of Secrets was, and the only people who knew for sure were probably Gryffindors. He then decided to ask his father, but Lucius Malfoy only had minimal knowledge about the Chamber of Secrets. In the end, Draco had no desire to ask the Gryffindors and could only let the topic slide.

"I'm sure Myrtle would be more than happy to share her toilet with you," Ginny answered dryly.

"It's not funny, Weatherby," Draco said, panic apparent on his face and in his voice.

"And you're not the one we should be worried about now anyway. It's eight forty-five already, and it's nearly the end of breakfast," Harry spoke up tensely. His hand was in his pocket right now, and Draco was really afraid that if Riddle were to walk through the doors of the Great Hall right now, Harry would not hesitate in hexing the Dark Lord. "Ten more minutes, and if Hermione doesn't show up ..."

"Breakfast ends at nine, Evans. Shouldn't we at least wait until then?" Draco repeated himself.

"I'm starting to believe that you're on his side, Malloy," Harry said, narrowing his eyes.

"Are you mental, Evans? Fine, then! Storm off to the Slytherin common room, and I'll laugh in your face if Hermione walks through that door at eight fifty-five. She said breakfast, so we should at least wait until the end of breakfast. She's not technically late until it is nine o' one, and Hermione had always been one who stuck to technicalities," Draco said, rolling his eyes in the process and crossing his arms over his chest.

There was a short period of silence, and Harry did give him a dirty look, but to Draco's relief, the two of them seemed to take heed to his suggestion and waited. As more time passed, Draco started getting worried again because Hermione still did not show up. He really, really did not want to face the Dark Lord and demand the whereabouts of Hermione Jean Granger. He really, really did not.

Because he really did not want to give Tom Marvolo Riddle another reason to Cruciate him.

~-0-~

With a sigh, Hermione moved, slightly stretching out her limbs that had turned a bit numb from staying in a position for so long. A satisfied smile appeared on her face; it had been so long since she had slept so well. She often tossed and turned in bed until well past midnight before she drifted off to sleep, only to be haunted by silly, senseless dreams. Grabbing to a corner of her blanket, she buried her face in it while she moved herself backwards towards that source of heat behind her.

The winter morning air was so cold. Even though there was a fireplace burning and the house-elves remembered to throw logs into the fire, it was still freezing to get out of bed, especially when she was not wearing anythi—

Her eyes immediately opened up wide as that last thought flashed through her mind, and she sat up. The unfamiliar setting around her brought back memories of what had happened right before she drifted off to sleep, and the colors drained from her face.

The "source of heat" stirred beside her.

"Awake already?" asked Tom, his voice slightly hoarse from just waking.

"What time is it?" she asked frantically, turning towards him.

He cracked open one eye and looked at the hourglass. "Eight thirty."

She drew in a sharp breath. Oh no ...

"Are you sure?" she squeaked him as she threw his robe off her and started gathering her clothes from the floor.

"It's too late to go to breakfast, you know?" he pointed out, pushing himself to sitting position and letting his eyes run over her body.

"That's the problem," she answered through gritted teeth.

Harry was going to get himself killed. She just knew it. Why did she say breakfast? She just knew she should not have given herself a time frame. Well ... not that she knew that  ** _that_**  was going to happen in the end, but still ... she should have foreseen that her "chat" with Tom was going to be on the long side.

He never did seem to know when to shut up on any occasion anyway.

"Why? Mr. Evans and Mr. Malloy wouldn't know how to feed themselves without you there?" he mocked, raising an eyebrow.

"Don't be ridiculous," she chided, throwing him a glare as she put on her clothes. When she was finished, she turned towards him. "We need to get back there immediately."

"No, we don't," Tom replied, casually flicking his wand to cloth himself.

"Fine," she snapped. " ** _I_**  need to get back there immediately. Can we go now?"

"I don't see what's the rush here, Hermione," he said, waving his wand at the sofa. It immediately went back to its previous size, and Tom leaned back against it.

"I  ** _told_**  Harry I was going to be there for breakfast. It's nearly the end of it, and if I hurry enough, I can reach there before he walks out of the Great Hall. If he doesn't see me, he's going to do something stupid—"

"And," he cut in, his dark eyes filled with amusement, "how does that concern me?"

"You  ** _saw_**  what happened last night. Harry knows I'm with you. If I don't appear, what is he going to think?"

"That I've chopped you up and thrown you in the Forbidden Forest for the werewolves' breakfast?" he asked sarcastically.

Hermione shut her eyes and rubbed the bridge of her nose. "In a sense, yes. Can't you just hurry up and take me up there already? It's unnecessary to let Harry run around, trying to hunt you down or scouring for my dead body ..."

She trailed off in her words when he abruptly stood up. She had nearly forgotten how tall he was until he was towering over her instead of lounging on the sofa. His presence was suffocating and attention-demanding. She could not tear her eyes away from him as he loomed over her. All traces of casual relaxation were gone from his face, and that expressionless facade was anchored back on his features, all emotions meticulously locked up behind it.

"And why would Mr. Evans believe that I would kill you?" he asked, his voice overly quiet.

Her heart stopped for a second when she realized the glitch in her whole banter with him. It would have been normal for Harry to worry about her being in trouble or expelled, but it was  ** _not_** normal for him to think that Tom would kill her. She had unconsciously lowered her guards around Tom, speaking to him as if he were any other normal person.

Yet, he was anything  ** _but_**  normal.

"You never hesitated on using the Cruciatus on Draco," she answered shakily.

_Amongst other things ..._

If anything, she could not let him know that Harry knew about the Chamber of Secrets and who really killed Myrtle.

He tilted her face upwards. "But that still doesn't mean that I might kill you."

"You can't tell me you've never thought about it," she retorted, clenching her hands into fists in an attempt to stop them from shaking.

Very slowly, his lips curved into a cold smile, and he lowered his head until it was near her ear. Therefore, she did not see the dangerous, hard glint that passed through his eyes as he spoke.

"I'll have to concede to that," he answered, his voice a soft whisper, both exciting and frightening her at the same time. "Did you realize how close I was to leaving you to the basilisk last night?"

Not trusting herself to speak, she nodded swiftly. She had known. Just one lie and he would not have hesitated on killing her on the spot, and regardless of what Harry, Draco, and Ginny knew, they could not prove that Tom killed her. Without the Horcrux, Harry no longer knew Parseltongue, so opening the Chamber of Secrets was not an option either.

Besides, she did not even know if the way to open it could be changed.

His fingers danced across the skin under her chin as he slightly turned his face. His lips landed on the place right next to her ear, and he placed a small kiss there.

"It would have been a regretful decision, if you believed it wise to lie to me, Hermione," he said, his voice even softer now as his breath brushed gently against her ear. "Such a pity ... if I were forced to kill you."

Goosebumps erupted across her body, and she had the sudden urge to shake out her limbs to get rid of the strange feeling. She wanted to lean closer to him and move away at the same time. It was like a child's fascination with a burning flame: They might have gotten in trouble with it, and they might have been gotten hurt by it before, but it did not stop them from wanting to play with it.

"I ... I ..." she stuttered.

The rate of her breathing increased. Her legs felt glued to the floor, her arms to her side. She could not muster an ounce of strength from her body.

"Now, Hermione, be a good girl and tell me," he whispered, his other arm wounding around her waist and pulling her flush against his body. "Why are the four of you so irrationally afraid of me, to the point of believing that I might be a threat to your lives?

Lowering her eyes, she bit her bottom lip. In a small voice, she answered, "We've ... speculated that ... you were the one who hurt Ginny."

Releasing her chin, he brushed her hair away before caressing the skin of her neck gently. "And why would you think that?"

"You were the only one who had an inexplicable interest in us," said Hermione, her fingers twisting the fabric of her skirt into knots. "No one else in school would have done it, and we can't imagine why strangers would want to do that to Ginny."

"Liar," he said coldly, forcing her to look at him again. "It would have been an excellent story, but  ** _unfortunately_** , the four of you were acting strangely around me since you arrived here."

"Why wouldn't we be? We landed on top of you the first day we came here if you don't remember," she replied.

"I remember quite well, and I did accept your apologies."

"And we didn't have good reasons to believe that you were being completely truthful about that. Dippet was putting you on the spot when he asked for your forgiveness on our behalf—"

Tom quirked his eyebrow in amusement at her words.

"—and you could've been holding a grudge afterwards, waiting for the chance to get back at us."

He eyed her quietly for a moment, and Hermione desperately hoped her expression did not falter. Though her argument was not completely false, it was not exactly the truth either, and she knew how excellent he was at reading a person's face even without looking at their eyes.

A short moment of silence followed. Softly, he spoke, "I know that's not the only reason, Hermione. You're hiding something, and make no mistake: I will find out what it is one day, and  ** _you_**  will be the one who will give me that information."

She could not avert her eyes. The way he said that was so ... confident that she could not brush it away as something funny. It should have been a lot easier for her to disregard this threat, since she would never betray her friends and family. However, she could not shake away the feeling that he was serious.

Then, his gaze finally dropped and ran over her attire. His lips curved into a smile when he noticed something, causing Hermione to look downwards to find what exactly amused him.

"Very inconspicuous, Hermione. I'm sure Mr. Evans and Mr. Malloy will never find out what was happening between the two of us when you buttoned your shirt wrong," he commented.

A furious blush tinted her cheeks, and she was about to redo the buttons when he waved his wand twice. The hems of her shirt tickled her as her shirt buttoned itself up correctly.

"Well, I wouldn't have had this problem if you haven't confiscated my wand," she snapped, embarrassment adding an edge to her words.

"Suit yourself, Hermione," he said, the corners of his lips curving further upwards. "But don't blame me if the wards crash down on you next time we pass through the entrance."

"The wards ... crash down ..." she repeated slowly.

"On people with wands," he finished for her. "As if Slytherin would've left the entrance to the Chamber of Secrets unguarded against people who are not of his blood."

"I wouldn't know now, would I? The basilisk didn't seem like such a splendid spell-caster to me," she commented, rolling her eyes.

"The basilisk," Tom explained, his eyes glinting oddly, "uses the way you've discovered." He snickered. "You didn't think that the great Salazar Slytherin would have used such a crude method to travel down here now, did you?"

The latter part of his words went unnoticed by her when her eyes landed on the hourglass.

"What time is it—No, never mind that. Can we  ** _please_**  go up there now?"

"What do I get out of this?" he asked, releasing her, crossing his arms over his chest, and sitting back down.

She threw up her hands in frustration and resisted the urge to throttle him on the spot.

"I've already given in to you in more ways than one, haven't I? Besides—" Her face turned thoroughly red. "—I've already admitted that you didn't ... rape me. What else could you possibly want?"

A devious glint passed through his eyes. "Hm ... I'll think of something, but regardless of what it is—"

"No," Hermione cut in, her gaze as hard as stone. "I'm not promising something that's open-ended. What if you tell me to kill my friends or walk around the school naked?"

"The first is rather tempting. It would be quite entertaining to see how you go about planning your best mates' demises," he answered, amusement clearly written on his features.

Her temper flared, and when she was about to give him a piece of her mind, he continued speaking.

"The second suggestion ..." He trailed off.

His forehead creased into a frown, and then, his face relaxed into a strangely pleased expression as he glanced at her. He leisurely placed his arm on the back of the sofa and propped up his head with a hand.

"I am not someone who shares," he stated in his signature soft voice, his eyes abnormally sharp on his seemingly pleasant face, "regardless of what it is." He stood up and gazed at her. "You are mine, Hermione, and nobody touches my possessions." He picked up a curl of her hair and twisted it around his finger. "I wouldn't allow it."

 _Yeah, try telling that to Bellatrix Lestrange_ , she thought absentmindedly.

Momentarily, she wondered if that were the reason why the maniacal witch chose her to torture while they were at Malfoy Manor. If Lord Voldemort himself forbade the Death Eaters to speak about it, she could not imagine who would dare to say anything.

But that was assuming that Bellatrix knew about Tom's relationship with Hermione, which was ridiculous. Hermione had no plans to stay forever in the past.

So she was attracted to Tom, and she did find him an excellent company when she wanted to have an intelligent conversation. However, by no means did that mean she did not miss home. She still had her parents to take care of, and ... she still had Ron.

And she had not forgotten  ** _what_**  Tom would become. It was not so much the looks as it was what he stood for. Not that he had ever stopped reminding her about it—quite the contrary. Their morals, if he had any, were so different, and they were on two different sides of the war, for Merlin's sake. How could she possibly have a future with him?

He suddenly spoke, breaking off her train of thought and catching her attention.

"I suppose I can be ... lenient. I will ask you to do something, and you will do it, as long it does not conflict with your 'high and honorable' morals," he proposed.

She nibbled her lower lip. She could see so many things that could go wrong, and he was definitely slippery enough to look for the loopholes. However, since  ** _her_**  morals were taken under consideration here, she did have some leverage.

"One thing only, no more," she corrected.

"One thing," he agreed. He raised an eyebrow. "I suppose we'd better leave then, if you want to catch Mr. Evans before he breaks into the Slytherin common room."

She quickly nodded, casting one last longing look at the books on the table.

He tilted her face upwards again and planted a gentle kiss on her lips.

"We can come here again if you want," he whispered. "After all, you still haven't found the book documenting international traveling methods."

Happiness caused her to smile, but then it was quickly replaced by suspicions.

"And what are you going to blackmail me with this time?"

His eyes glinted too merrily for her liking while he answered, "I won't ask you for something in return for bringing you here."

"And bringing me back up?" she pressed on.

"I do believe that I can ask for a kiss or ... something more from you as a reward, can't I?" he asked with a grin.

Her cheeks turned to a glaring red color at his words, and she could still feel it burning even while they walked through the Chamber and up the stairs that led to Myrtle's toilet. When they reached the top of the staircase, Tom cast an unknown spell at the wall and waited. Surprisingly, the wall did not move.

"Why isn't the wall moving?" she asked worriedly. She was quite anxious now, knowing that any minute now, Harry would be storming towards the Slytherin common room.

"Because I didn't open it yet," he answered.

"Why aren't you opening it?" she demanded.

"I'd have to check if there were someone outside, wouldn't I?"

"The only person ... well, nobody comes here," Hermione said. "Moaning Myrtle's done a great job at scaring everybody away."

"Indeed," he replied, smirking. "She's just as annoying as when she was alive. Perhaps even more."

The wall shined a faint yellow color before settling down again, and Tom quickly tapped his wand on it. Rapidly, the bricks slid into the archway, and the toilet appeared in front of them once more. The morning sun was shining through the windows, slightly dispersing the gloomy atmosphere. As Tom's spell had indicated, Moaning Myrtle was nowhere in sight.

They stepped through the archway, and the archway closed up behind them.

"We need to—" she started to say.

"Who's there?" a girl's voice floated towards them from one of the stalls.

Hermione wondered for a moment if Tom's indicator spell had been cast wrong, but then, she realized that it was possibly because Myrtle had just returned via the toilet.

Tom heaved a sigh, rolled his eyes, and glanced off to the side. However, when he looked forward again, a pleasant expression masked his irritation.

"Hello, Myrtle. How are you doing today?" he asked amiably.

Although it was not the first time she saw his acting skills, Hermione could not help but stare stupidly at how quickly he managed to dissipate that air of annoyance around him. If she had not seen that  ** _look_**  on his face, she would have believed that he was friendly with Myrtle, too.

The ghost emerged through the doors, and a silvery blush appeared on her face.

"Hello, Tom," she simpered shyly, keeping her eyes firmly on him. "You haven't come to visit me for a long time."

"I had been busy with schoolwork. It's a rather heavy workload, being Head Boy and with the N.E.W.T's coming up," Tom explained smoothly.

Myrtle giggled and lowered her head, casting her eyes upwards to keep looking at him. "I know you'll do wonderfully." She then noticed Hermione. "Who's she?"

"She's Hermione, a transfer student from Durmstrang," he replied.

"We've never had transfer students before," Myrtle commented.

"And now we do," he answered, the corners of his lips curved slightly upwards.

It looked vaguely like a smirk, but Hermione was guessing that Myrtle would be too infatuated to notice. Indeed, when the victim saw it, she simply lowered her head with the increase of shyness.

However, seconds later, Myrtle's head snapped up, and she looked at Tom mournfully. "Is that why you haven't come here to see me anymore? Because you were spending your time with _her_?"

Hermione prepared herself for the wailing that would definitely occur right about now. Myrtle had been known to take offense in nearly everything someone did or said, and seeing how fond she was of Tom, his actions and words would undoubtedly affect her even more.

"We'd have to be courteous to the newcomers now, don't we, Myrtle? It would not do well for others to say that students from Hogwarts are so rude and unkind," Tom replied.

In contrast to Hermione, he was completely as ease, as if he had never seen one of Myrtle's outbursts. However, seconds later, she understood why. Strangely enough, with his simple words, the ghost gradually calmed down and nodded.

"We still have some projects to finish before the end of the holidays," Tom hinted.

That shy smile appeared on Myrtle's face again, and she asked hopefully, "Will you come and visit me again?"

"When I have the time," he answered ambiguously.

However, that seemed to be enough for Myrtle, since glee immediately filled her silvery face, and her eyes behind those huge-rimmed glasses glittered with joy. She continued to bade Tom good-bye as they walked out of the toilet, and Hermione could only stare at him in amazement.

"She doesn't know ... who killed her?" she asked.

"She doesn't need to know," he answered simply.

He said the words in such a nonchalant way that it would have caused a shiver to run down Hermione's spine, if he had not been threatening her just a short while ago. When they reached the Great Hall, Hermione let out a groan. She had known that it was well over nine, but she had thought that it was worth a try.

"Shall we head down to the dungeons to check if Evans is wreaking havoc there?" Tom asked, slightly quirking his eyebrow and a faint smile on his lips.

She could tell just how much Tom wanted to find Harry there. It would give him a chance to get Harry in trouble or, if things got out of hand, to duel him.

That was, however, the last thing Hermione needed.

~-0-~

When they reached the wall leading to the Slytherin common room, Hermione felt slightly relieved because there was no one lurking there. However, that comfort was immediately dispersed when she remembered that Draco knew the password to the Slytherin common room, and the three of them could be waiting inside.

"It seems like Mr. Evans, Mr. Malloy, and Miss Weatherby are not here yet," Tom commented, a suspiciously pleased look on his face. "Perhaps you should check the Gryffindor common room."

"No," Hermione replied, staring firmly at the wall. "I need to check if they're in there."

If the three of them were in there, upon seeing Hermione alive and well, they would refrain from doing anything rash. However, Hermione did not even want to think about what they would do if they saw Tom alone. Or at least, Harry and Ginny. Draco might be worried about her, but she could not see him risking his life for her yet.

All in all, Harry and Ginny needed to know that no harm had befallen on her before they got themselves killed.

"I'm afraid I cannot comply with that, Hermione," Tom said, his smirk even more pronounced now. "Students are not supposed to enter the common rooms of other Houses."

Hermione barely repressed a growl. Since when was he someone who went by the rules?

"You just made that rule up," she argued. "If you don't remember, I was just in there a couple of nights ago."

"I 'invited' you in last time," Tom answered smoothly, watching her reddened face with amusement. "And I am afraid that I cannot 'invite' you in today."

She clenched down on her teeth, realizing that he was doing this on purpose. He knew exactly what was going to happen if Harry and the others saw him alone without Hermione in sight. Therefore, he was trying to manipulate the situation so that the others would think that he did some kind of harm to her.

He wanted vengeance for what happened last night.

He turned around, spoke the password, and walked through the hole that appeared. Hermione was about to follow in after him but was pushed backwards when she neared the entrance.

She looked at him, surprised, since she knew that was not supposed to happen, that common rooms did not just warded themselves against students from other Houses. Her anger flared when she noticed that he had his wand out.

Then, she remembered that she  ** _still_**  did not have her wand back. She had been so worried about Harry and the others that she had forgotten to get it back from him. However, he apparently remembered that fact quite well, which was why he knew he could ward the Slytherin common room without worrying about her breaking in.

"Knew you were going to do that, Granger. Now be a good girl and go back to your common room," he said.

"Give me back my—" she stopped in her words, since she was looking at the gray bricks that had slid back into place.

She drew in a deep breath and attempted to calm down. She had the strongest urge to pull her hair out.

No, even better: She wanted to pull  ** _his_**  hair out. That annoying freak of a snake! At least he could have given her back her wand.

She paced in front of the wall, contemplating if she should go and hunt down a Slytherin to open the door for her.

However, what if Harry, Ginny, and Draco were in there? She could not just run around the school looking for people when the three of them would burst out any second.

With a sigh, she glared at the wall, crossed her arms in front of her chest, and tapped her foot on the floor, trying to remain hopeful about the outcome of the situation.

Perhaps they were still running around the rest of the school looking for her. Perhaps they could be in the Gryffindor common room waiting for her. Perhaps they were asking around, to see if other students had seen her. Perhaps they were in the library even, checking to see if she had immersed herself in another book.

_Or perhaps, they could be inside, dueling with the most feared wizard of all time._

She shook that thought off, determined to keep a bright outlook on things.

However, after thirty minutes of standing in front of a rather uninteresting wall, Hermione was on the verge of killing someone, namely, He-Who-Is-Eternally-Annoying. The least he could have done was stick his head out and tell her if they were indeed inside. But no, he had to make her wait outside and continue worrying.

Just when she was about to hunt down a professor or Slytherin to open the door for her, the bricks moved, and Tom appeared, dressed in clean robes and his hair not completely dry yet.

She would have sighed out of relief if she were not so annoyed; Harry, Ginny, and Draco were obviously not in there if Tom had the time to shower.

His eyebrow quirked up and a smile appeared at his lips. "You're still here?"

"My wand," she said through gritted teeth and held out her hand, realizing that if she were attack him with her bare hands right now, he would not give her back her wand. Not to mention that it would be stupid to do so.

"Ah," he said, a fake look of realization dawning over his face. "My ... apologies. I'd forgotten."

It was obvious that he had not, but Hermione did not want to argue about it with him right now.

That could wait until after she got her wand back.

Therefore, she was completely unprepared when he pulled her inside the Slytherin common room while stepping outside into the corridor.

"Feel free to use the shower, Granger. You're staying in here for at least twenty minutes," he told her as his smile turned vicious.

He flicked his wand, and she knew that the ward to prevent her from exiting was up again. She opened her mouth to protest, but the last thing she saw before the wall sealed itself up, was Tom looking off to the left with a cold sneer printed on his face, and a feeling of dread filled her heart when she realized whom that expression was meant for.

~-0-~

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **A/N** : Many thanks to my beta, catcachoo (from PI) and Nerys! 


	34. Chapter 34

**Chapter 34**

After checking every possible place in Hogwarts where Riddle and Hermione might be, Harry and Ginny decided to check the Slytherin common room again, much to Draco's dismay.

"But we checked there already," Draco pointed out.

"And we should check it again," Harry remarked firmly.

Without leaving room for argument, the two Gryffindors turned on their heels and marched towards the dungeons, disregarding what Draco was sputtering about.

A million things that could go wrong with  ** _this_**  plan came to Draco's mind, but the only thing he could do was follow them. He swore it had nothing to do with wanting to know about Hermione's safety. Well, okay, perhaps he did want to know if Hermione was safe and sound, but confronting the Dark Lord just did not seem like a smart—or sane—move.

Therefore, Draco was tempted to run into one of the empty classrooms as they got closer to the Slytherin common room. However, that was nothing compared to how he felt when he saw Riddle, standing in front of the wall that led to the common room and staring at them coldly. That vicious sneer on his face was so reminiscent of the future Lord Voldemort that it made shivers run up and down Draco's spine.

"Where's Hermione?" Harry immediately demanded without introduction.

"Pardon?" Riddle asked ever so casually, though his eyes remained cold as ice. Momentarily, he glanced at Draco, who shrunk as much as he could into the shadows.

_No more Cruciatus Curses thrown this way please._

"Where is Hermione?" Ginny hissed.

Draco had remembered correctly: Ginevra Weasley could be scary when the moments called for it.

"Oh, you're talking about ... Miss Granger?" the Dark Lord asked "kindly," a cordial smile curving his lips upwards.

Merlin's pants, this did not sound good for Granger at all. Draco distinctly felt as if ice had been dropped into his stomach upon hearing the Dark Lord's words.

_Poor Hermione. I will remember to bring flowers to your grave when it's your birthday. Then again, when's her birthday? Will have to remember to ask Evans or Weatherby after all this ... if the Dark Lord allows me to live that is._

Draco swallowed and took another inconspicuous step backwards, keeping a rather clear distance away from Pothead and Pumpkin Junior.

"Quit playing games, Riddle. Where's Hermione and what have you done to her?" Harry asked, taking another step forward.

"Now, now. Aren't we being a bit too presumptuous here?" Riddle questioned him patronizingly. "Who'd ever given you the idea that I was the one who had anything to do with ... what happened to Miss Granger?"

Evans and Weatherby shared a worried look.

"Where is she?" Harry asked one more time, his fingers inching towards his wand.

Draco could clearly see that Ginny already had her hand in her pocket and knew that she would draw out her wand soon.

"Where's who?" Tom asked, feigning innocence.

In one move, Harry's wand was out and a hex was thrown the Dark Lord's way. The latter stepped to the side, allowing the curse to fly pass him. Casually, and almost tauntingly, the Dark Lord turned his head slightly towards Harry and brushed off a speck of imaginary dust from his shoulder.

"Not that I've assumed intelligent moves on your part, Evans, but even this is way below my expectations. Attempting to curse the Head Boy right in the middle of the hallway? Tsk, tsk, tsk," Riddle reprimanded.

His eyes held an unspoken dare directed towards the three of them, and Draco's eyes flashed towards the now vacant wall. Perhaps he could subtly make it there and enter the common room before all hell broke loose? That sounded like a wonderful plan to Draco.

"If you don't tell me where Hermione is, I won't hesitate on trying it again, and I assure you, this time I won't miss," Harry vowed.

By now, Ginny's wand was out too, and she was rolling it between her fingers.

It was already two against one. Draco was pretty sure they would not need him to help them, since it would be against their "let me suffer to save everyone" Gryffindor spirit. Nope, he doubted the two of them would really care if he went inside the Slytherin common room first.

He was just ... checking to see if Hermione were in there or not.

"Oh?" the Dark Lord asked simply, his eyes darkening considerably with a mixture of laughter and wickedness. A glint of calculating, that went unnoticed by Harry and Ginny, flashed through his eyes before cold impassiveness shrouded his features. "Dare I say that with Hermione no longer around, your threat is nothing more than an empty one?"

Ginny drew a sharp intake of breath, and then she quickly whispered to Harry, "He's probably trying to distract us into thinking that something happened to Hermione. Don't—HARRY!"

Her last word came out as a scream when Harry fired two spells, one right after the other at Tom. The "victim" calmly stepped to the side and avoided the impact.

Finally, Riddle's hand went into his pocket and pulled out the infamous yew wand. Twirling it idly between his fingers, he cast a condescending look towards Harry and Ginny.

"I thought you said you weren't going to miss?" he asked mockingly, his eyes trained on his wand. "As I've said, empty threats, and that  ** _was_**  the best you could come up with, wasn't it, Harry? How surprising to see you in our Defense class. If I were the one administering your test, you would have undoubtedly received a 'T' from me, guaranteeing the fact that you would never step foot into an N.E.W.T. Defense class."

As the Dark Lord spoke, Draco slowly edged towards the wall. One step ... two steps ... three steps ... four steps ...

"This is ... surprising, to say the least, from someone who is supposedly from Durmstrang," Riddle continued. " ** _Your school_**  was known to place heavy emphasis on dueling magic, and with the war going on there ... If Hermione hadn't been around you, you probably would've perished, wouldn't you? Although with your ridiculously dreadful reflexes, I'm surprised her help worked at all. Pity that there is no Miss Granger giving you advice about what spells might work in a proper duel anymore."

While Riddle was speaking, Draco finally made it to the entrance of the Slytherin common room. Although it struck him as sickeningly hilarious how Riddle was praising a Muggle-born witch while demeaning the one who actually defeated him, Draco kept in mind not to dwell on that and especially not snort out loud right now. His arse was still in pain.

He muttered the password to the wall and scrambled inside, thankful that the Dark Lord was as talkative as ever, therefore giving him the chance to discretely take cover first. What he was not prepared, however, was to find Hermione standing right in front of him as the wall sealed up behind him.

"Hermione? What are doing here? We thought you were—" he asked in surprise, a feeling of relief washing over him upon seeing that she was safe and unharmed.

"Take down the wards first. I'll tell you everything later," Hermione said hurriedly.

"Why aren't you—If you can't take down the wards, what makes you think that I can?"

"I don't have a wand," she replied through gritted teeth.

"Why don't you have yours?" Draco asked, confused.

"Because the Heir of Morons took mine," Hermione answered. "Now can you stop the chitchat and let me out before they kill themselves outside?"

Once the wards were down, Hermione pushed him aside and made a beeline for the exit. Mumbling about ungrateful witches under his breath, Draco followed behind her, and a scream erupted from his throat when he saw a yellow spell collide into Hermione right when she stepped through the hole.

"HERMIONE!" three different voices yelled as she crashed down to the floor.

~-0-~

"This is outrageous," Madam Pomfrey muttered as she bustled around the infirmary, shooting glares at Harry as she tended to Hermione, whom had her face contorted in pain. "I've heard of inter-House dueling, but to curse your own House-mate—"

"It was an accident," Harry argued as he glanced worriedly at Hermione who let out another soft groan of pain.

"And who, exactly, were you trying to jinx with the Conjunctivitus Curse?" Madam Pomfrey demanded, placing her hands on her waist.

Harry momentarily looked at Tom, who was standing beside Hermione's bed, watching the whole situation unfold in front of him indifferently. However, something sparked in Tom's gaze when Harry's eyes met with his. A wordless battle went on while Madam Pomfrey's mouth snapped shut in irritation. Muttering about "troublemakers" and shooting another glare at Harry, she strode to her cabinet and took out several bottles of potions.

"Will she get better soon, Madam Pomfrey?" Tom asked, never looking away from Harry.

"I should be able to let her out by Sunday morning," the school nurse answered with a sigh. Madam Pomfrey then swirled around and looked at Harry warningly, causing the silent battle between the two young men to cease for the time being. "I need to visit Professor Slughorn to retrieve certain potions. If I detect any signs of dueling in here, you will have me and Professor Dippet to answer to. Do you understand?"

Harry opened his mouth, probably to explain that it was not completely his fault, but upon seeing that look on Madam Pomfrey's face, he closed it again and nodded.

"Good," she said in a clipped voice. She then turned towards Tom and said in a milder voice, "Do look after her for me, Tom."

A mixture of outrage and disgust appeared on Harry's face when he heard her words. Once she left, the staring match between Harry and Tom began again, each of them unwilling to avert their eyes first.

"Not bothering to put up the act anymore, are you, Riddle?" Harry broke the silence first.

"I have no idea what kind of 'act' you are talking about, Evans," Tom answered, his voice harsh and bordering on being deadly, "but I certainly do not see the point of spending more time than necessary on you."

It must have struck Harry as funny, since he suddenly snorted. If her eyes were not painful, Hermione would have rolled her eyes, too. After all, Lord Voldemort spent a large chunk of his time trying to do Harry in.

"I could say the same about you, Riddle. I'm not the one who's strutting around, pretending to be nice," Harry bit back.

"I wasn't the one who hexed Hermione, Evans," Tom replied, his stare hardening ever so slightly.

"That was an accident," Harry retorted through gritted teeth, though a look of guilt dawned on his face. "You know perfectly well who that spell was intended for."

Tom's lips curved into a cold sneer. "I wouldn't know, would I? Your aim is so horrid that you could have been aiming for Mr. Malloy over there."

"Will the two of you lower it down already? I'm already having a headache here and the two of you just keep going on and on nonstop," Hermione finally spoke up, clutching on to her head.

Harry's alarm was quickly replaced by annoyance when Tom pulled Hermione's hand away from her face.

"Don't touch her!" Harry growled.

A sarcastic grin appeared on Tom's face, though he did not answer. Instead, he gazed at Harry challengingly, as if he was daring Harry to hex him right there in the infirmary. Instead of pulling out his wand, Harry stomped over, grabbed Hermione's arm, and pulled it out of Tom's hand. Tom's eyes slightly narrowed, and he reclaimed Hermione's wrist immediately.

As they continued on with their childish feat, Ginny sighed and rolled her eyes. Walking over to Hermione, she picked up the hand that was not being fought over for, and asked softly, "Do you feel any better at all, Hermione?"

"I would feel loads better if those two idiots would just drop my hand and stop pulling it around," Hermione said through gritted teeth.

Immediately, her hand was dropped on the bed. The corners of Ginny's lips slightly twitched before she asked, "What about your eyes?"

Hermione hesitantly nodded. "It's not as painful as it was when the curse first hit me."

Her words caused Harry to look away from Tom. "I'm sorry, Hermione. The curse wasn't meant for you."

"I know, Harry."

"I seriously didn't mean to—"

"I know, Harry. You didn't mean it, and I'm not going to blame you about it, so stop feeling guilty about it," Hermione sighed.

She was more worried about what might transpire while she was staying in the infirmary. Tom was definitely going to find ways to provoke Harry. If anything happened, Ginny was definitely going to side with Harry. Draco was probably too scared to take sides. So, there was basically no one to stop Tom and Harry from dueling.

"As long as you stay away from her when you're casting spells," Tom added viciously.

"This wouldn't have happened at all if you weren't anywhere near her in the first place. The best thing would be for  ** _you_**  to stay away from her.  ** _Permanently_** ," Harry retorted.

And they just proved her point right then and there. Hermione seriously did not want to think about what might happen in the next two days.

~-0-~

Surprisingly, neither Harry nor Tom landed themselves in the infirmary for the next two days. Perhaps it was due to the return of the other students—and thus, rendering private duels nearly impossible—but both of them managed to keep their wands stowed away. Still, it was hard for them to speak without throwing nasty comments to each other whenever they found the opportunity to do so. In short, they were driving Hermione nuts.

Tom finally gave her back her wand on Saturday, while Madam Pomfrey was watching over her, making sure she drank every last drop of the disgusting potion she had to take. Therefore, Hermione did not get a chance to hex him for snitching her wand for such a long period of time.

After Tom left the room, she immediately pestered Harry for his wand so she could cast Priori Incantatem on her wand, just to be sure Tom had not done any illegal curses with it. For a while, she panicked because she could not remember if the spell that came up was the one she had cast, thoroughly alerting Harry and alarming him even more when she would not tell him what happened. Although she was rather anxious about this, she did not want to worry Harry, too. So, she tried other spells on it, determined to check if Tom had placed some kind of dark curse on it. However, no results came up. Since Tom would probably never tell her the truth, Hermione was left with restless nights, wondering if he had used it to harm another fellow classmate.

As Madam Pomfrey had promised, on Sunday, Hermione's eyes were fully healed, and she was finally allowed to leave the infirmary. As she walked back to her dorm, the voices of people speaking down a deserted corridor caught her attention. Now, normally Hermione would not be so nosy as to listen on to other people's conversations, especially when they were so obviously private. With the rest of the students back in school, common rooms could no longer be trusted to hold secrets within its walls. Students usually opted to use deserted classrooms, corridors, or other areas to exchange what they did not want others to know.

She quickened her footsteps to get away before the speakers noticed her. However, her brain registered that the voices belonged to Alphard and Cygnus Black.

 _Which makes it even more private. So run along now, Hermione. It's a discussion between brothers and none of your business_ , she reminded herself.

"—The Parkinsons love Tom. You know that, Alphard," she suddenly heard Cygnus's more unfamiliar voice say quietly.

As much as she wanted to kick herself,  ** _his_**  name caused her to stop in her stride. Her ears perked up, determined to catch every word Cygnus and Alphard might say.

Especially when she now found out that the conversation was about the family of cows and  ** _him_**.

"That doesn't necessarily mean he would accept their proposal. He doesn't like her too much, or so it appears," Alphard replied. He paused. "He seems more ... interested in Hermione."

Cygnus snorted, as if he found Alphard's words funny, causing Hermione to slightly narrow her eyes in annoyance.

"Granger is probably considered 'interesting' to Tom, but I doubt she will be useful to him for what he wants to achieve," Cygnus evaluated. "The Parkinsons, however, can ensure him power."

"So you're saying that in the end, he might accept the marriage proposal in exchange for power and influence," Alphard concluded.

 _Marriage proposal ... MARRIAGE proposal?_  Hermione fumed, clenching her hands into fists before she remembered Tom telling Iris off the other day in the hallway.

So perhaps he was not interested in Iris at all, or the power and influence that came with the name ...

She mentally rolled her eyes at herself. Who was she kidding? They were talking about Lord Voldemort here. Of course he wanted all those things. However, she had never heard about Lord Voldemort getting married ...

 _Ah, but nobody knows if Tom Marvolo Riddle had gotten married or not_ … _But Dumbledore would've told Harry back then if Lord Voldemort had gotten married with a cow._

"Tom hasn't said for sure yet," Cygnus replied delicately, breaking off Hermione's train of thought. "Abraxas brought it up a couple of times during our meetings already, but he hasn't given us an answer yet. He is probably weighing his options. I mean," he heaved a deep breath, "the marriage has more pros than cons. The Parkinsons have a lot of connections in the Ministry. The Minister himself was rumored to be childhood friends with Mr. Parkinson, so Tom ..."

"So you think he might consider their marriage proposal?"

Cygnus laughed gently. "I don't see why not."

Hermione's eyes slightly narrowed again. Although Dumbledore had not told Harry, it might be because he had brushed it off as something trivial, not worthy to be mentioned. After all, the Parkinsons weren't as influential during her time as they were now ... or perhaps it was something done in secret? Whatever the reason was, if Tom Marvolo Riddle was considering on accepting the proposal, he would have a lot of explaining to do.

And Hermione Granger could very well prove that Lord Voldemort was not the only scary person in the world.

~-0-~

Hermione had nearly forgotten how noisy the Great Hall could be when all the students were back. Nonetheless, it could still be considered mellow during breakfast, when a couple of students here and there decided to sleep until the first class. The four House tables were back in place, and Christmas decorations had long been taken down.

If anything, Hermione had been mildly surprised about the fact that the rumors between Tom and herself had not resurfaced with the return of the rest of the students. Not that she was not grateful for the peace of ears and mind, but she did find it somewhat strange.

Sliding into her normal seat, she grabbed a piece of toast and started to butter it up when Harry, Ginny, Joseph, and Gareth sat down in their respective seats next to her.

"Good morning, Hermione! I thought you were supposed to be released from Madam Pomfrey's Kappa-like grips yesterday," Gareth said with a grin on his face.

"I was. I just visited the library afterwards to get some books," Hermione replied, a small, secretive smile lingering at the corner of her lips.

"Oh? Find anything interesting?" Gareth asked offhandedly.

_Very interesting books, indeed. Precaution does go a long way after all._

"Of course," Hermione answered just as casually but did not elaborate.

"Did you read the  _Daily Prophet_  yesterday?" Joseph changed the topic altogether, a rather concerned expression on his face as he leaned towards them.

"No, I haven't. What happened?" Hermione replied.

"They've somehow found out that Dumbledore's gone to Germany, and they're saying that he's gone missing," Joseph answered.

A similar frown appeared on Harry, Ginny, and Hermione's faces upon hearing the news. Though they already somewhat have a plan to look for Dumbledore, it was still disturbing, now that the _Daily Prophet_  had published it. Then, it occurred to Hermione that that must be the reason why students no longer speculated the relationship between her and Tom.

"Did the professors say anything about it?" Harry asked.

"No, but they do seem rattled about it," Gareth remarked, glancing at the staff table.

Hermione had no idea if it were her imagination, but despite the professors' efforts to maintain casual expressions, there did seem to be an ominous cloud hovering above the staff table.

"Several Hufflepuffs were told off by Professor Ferns when she overheard them talking about the possibility of—" Joseph swallowed, as if it was hard for him to say what he had to say next "—the possibility of Grindelwald capturing Dumbledore."

Harry, Ginny, and Hermione exchanged a look.

"Professor Fireswish gave three Ravenclaws a month of detention for speculating on the probability of Dumbledore coming back alive," Gareth added.

"Nothing's going to happen to Dumbledore," Hermione said firmly, though her eyes were conflicted.

"We sure hope so, Hermione," Joseph replied without the same certainty as her. "We sure hope so."

Hermione nibbled at her lower lip, and her eyes suddenly landed on Tom. He stared back at her, faint signs of mockery written all over his face, as a single eyebrow quirked upwards. It was obvious how much he enjoyed the fact that Dumbledore had gone missing. In fact, he was probably wishing that Dumbledore would never make it back to Hogwarts.

Well, that was nothing new to her. However, the event did remind her that she needed to go back to the Chamber of Secrets, and it temporarily pushed the whole thing about the Parkinsons' marriage proposal to the back of her mind. Therefore, the first thing she did when she and Tom sat down in the Charms classroom was request for another visit to the Chamber of Secrets. She was more than glad that Harry had decided to walk with Ginny to her first class and that Draco was sitting a bit too far away from Tom and her to hear what they were talking about.

"And how do you plan to get away from your  ** _Harry_** , ** _Draco_** , and ** _Ginny_**?" Tom asked in a low voice, propping his head up with one hand.

"I could always say ... Oh!" Her head snapped up when she recalled something. "I can tell them that I have detention."

Tom raised an eyebrow at her. "Lying to your friends now, Granger?"

"Well, you've forbidden me to tell them about ...  ** _that_**  place," she replied.

"Very well then," he said, picking his head up from his hand and proceeding to flip through the pages of his textbook. "Do give me the exact date. I will need to arrange my schedule around it to prevent an overlapping of events. Although ..." He stopped in his motions and glanced at her from the corner of his eye. "... I suppose we can always go there at night instead."

A sudden rush of heat invaded her cheeks, and she blushed. On second thought, that did save her from the hectic work of thinking up stories to tell Harry and Ginny. After all, it was still hard for her to tell her friends lies. However, she was also worried that Tom might get the wrong idea. She really, really needed to go back there to find a way to travel to Germany soon to find out what, exactly, happened to Dumbledore. It had absolutely nothing to do with wanting to read those rare books in there. Definitely not.

And it certainly had nothing to do with the fact that she would be all alone with Tom. Nope. Certainly not. She did not need more alone time with him at all.

Clearing her throat softly, she turned towards her textbook.

"Whatever ... works best for you ... I guess ... I mean, it's your place ... after all," she said in a low voice, when she saw Harry walked through the door.

She did not have to look at Tom to know that his smirk must be back in place.

As Harry made his way towards where they were sitting, Hermione straightened herself up and looked at anywhere but Tom, pretending that she had not been talking to him at all.

~-0-~

She should have been more suspicious about the way Tom acted. She should have guessed that there was something awfully wrong when he had not hunted down Harry while she was trapped in the infirmary. It became increasingly clear to her the moment Merrythought informed them that they were going to have class outside. Her suspicions were confirmed the moment Merrythought announced what they were going to do today.

The professor had brought them out to the Quidditch Pitch. Some kind of raised up arena had been erected there beforehand, and the students were advised to form a wide circle around it.

"For those of you who hadn't been in my class for the previous years," Merrythought began, shooting a kind smile towards Harry, Draco, and Hermione, "the class that follows right after the winter holidays is, in simpler terms, a test of your abilities to defend yourself during an actual duel. Basically, you will duel with at least one of your classmates. The winner will continue until he or she loses, and three points will be earned for each match won.

"Please bear in mind, once an opponent drops his or her wand, the match is over. Anyone who hexes an opponent who has dropped his or her wand will get a hundred points deducted from their House and detention for the rest of the year with Hogan. And remember: No illegal curses," Merrythought said, staring pointedly at Abraxas and Joseph. "Anyone who uses an illegal curse will get fifty points deducted from their House and detention with me for the remainder of the year. Is that clear to everyone?" She paused, waiting for an affirmative answer from each and every student. "Now, do I have a volunteer to duel with Tom?"

She smiled fondly at Tom.

Hermione glanced at him, momentarily wondering if he had manipulated Merrythought into letting him go first, so that he would definitely get to duel Harry. When she saw his expression, it became increasingly clear to her that he must have. That nonchalant mask on his face was not enough to cover the underlying satisfaction.

"No one?" Merrythought asked with a frown. With a sigh, she looked at the circle of students who were staring at anywhere but her and randomly picked a student. "Why don't you come up first then, Mr. Malfoy?"

Draco jolted in shock, but another voice crashed in.

" ** _Me_**?" Abraxas squeaked, pointing at himself.

For a moment there, he resembled Draco so much that Hermione had to turn her head slightly towards the blond standing next to her. A suspicious blush appeared on Draco's face when he caught her looking at him.

After unsuccessfully trying to weasel his way out of dueling with Tom, Abraxas shakily walked up the stairs leading to the arena and stopped a small distance away from his Lord.

"Now, bow to your opponents," Merrythought instructed.

With an elegant move, Tom bowed to Abraxas, his expression impassive save the mild interest glinting in his eyes. In contrast, Abraxas did not dare to keep his attention off Tom. Perhaps he was afraid that Tom might begin before Merrythought said start, which Hermione found a bit stupid, really. Tom would not ruin his perfect Head Boy image for ferret seniors.

"Begin!"

A loud clunk followed Merrythought's words, and confusion stopped the low-toned chatter going on amongst the students. Everyone was either staring at Abraxas or Tom, trying to figure out the strange event in front of them. Nobody saw Tom cast anything.

Hermione blinked once before snorting rather loudly, causing Draco to flush even redder.

"Hush, Granger," he murmured.

Laughter danced in her eyes as she looked at Harry, who stuffed his hand into his mouth to muffle his laughter upon meeting gazes with her. Joseph was already audibly guffawing next to them.

Tom lowered his wand, tapping it gently against the side of his leg, as he looked at Abraxas with a raised eyebrow. Abraxas gave him a meek smile, and amusement threatened to appear on Tom's face but was carefully hidden behind a courteous mask.

"Mr. Malfoy!" Merrythought chided, a frown on her displeased face, and she immediately walked over to where he was standing. She picked up the wand on the ground and placed it in Abraxas's hand. "Don't be silly. If you purposely drop your wand again, I will have to deduct points from your House. And that goes for the rest of you, too."

"I don't blame him," Gareth whispered to them, his eyes never leaving the center where the two opponents were looking at one another and waiting for Merrythought to tell them to start again. "Nobody's beaten Tom in the past six years. Although ... he never goes up this early. Augusta and Joseph earned a good amount of points for our House in the previous years before they got defeated by Tom—a courteous move on Tom's part, I assume, so that other Houses would get a shot at House points. I guess all points will go to Slytherin this year then."

His words confirmed Hermione's fears, and she suddenly recalled something important. Without a word, she snatched Draco's wand and stuffed it into Harry's hand.

"Hey!" Draco stared at her confused.

"Harry's wand reacts differently towards Tom," Hermione explained as she stuck her hand into Harry's pocket, fished out his wand, and then handed it to Draco. "We can't afford to let their wands meet because Tom's wand hasn't recognized Harry's wand yet."

"And? I don't get this, Hermione," Draco asked.

"He wants to duel with Harry, Draco. Why else do you think he's up there now instead of later?"

Realization dawned on Draco’s face before a look of anticipation took over. It was almost as if he were looking forward to seeing either Tom or Harry—or maybe, it was the both of them—get blown to smithereens or fall flat on their faces, which caused Hermione to glare at him. Draco, noticing the look on her face, immediately cleared his throat and straightened his face, pretending that nothing had happened.

Just when Draco was about to say something, a squeak from the center of the stage and a flash of blue illuminating the field caught their attention. They looked up just in time to see Abraxas flying across the air over some students' heads and landing on the grass with his behind. Joseph let out a loud whoop.

"Excellent work, Tom," Merrythought commended. "That was a quicker victory than previous years." She glanced almost suspiciously at Abraxas who was standing up, his legs wobbly.

"I swear I didn't do this on purpose, Professor!" he immediately denied, shaking his head.

"Very well," Merrythought replied, tones of doubt still present in her voice. "Mr. Potter, since you enjoyed that so much, why don't you go next?"

"Bloody hell!" Joseph muttered under his breath, catching Harry, Hermione, and Draco by surprise. After all, they had never heard him using language like that.

"So, what's the deal about Harry and Riddle's wand?" Draco asked in a hushed voice after making sure that nobody was listening on to their conversation.

Joseph made his way to the center of the arena. Keeping their eyes on what was happening there, Hermione continued explaining.

"Harry's wand had already gone through Priori Incantatem with You-Know-Who's wand. It is already established in Harry's wand that You-Know-Who is the enemy, which causes Harry's wand to react strangely when he's dueling with You-Know-Who. However, Tom's wand hasn't gone through that yet."

Flashes of different colors lit up their faces as Hermione spoke, and occasionally, they would hear Merrythought giving Tom compliments on the side.

"So big deal. Evans's wand can just randomly blast Riddle off his feet, and Evans can pretend that he's the one who did it," Draco remarked while Harry let out a groan on the side when one of Tom's hexes hit Joseph.

"The point is, I don't know what might happen—I'm guessing Priori Incantatem again—but whatever it is, Tom's not supposed to know about that yet. It's going to change the timeline, Draco," Hermione told him.

She abruptly stopped talking when Joseph's wand flew out of his hand and landed neatly at Tom's feet.

"Well done, Tom!" Merrythought praised.

A barely noticeable smirk appeared on Tom's face as Joseph picked up his wand before staggering back to where Harry, Hermione, and Draco were standing.

"At least you didn't have to be sent to the infirmary," Gareth joked as he patted Joseph on the back.

Joseph gave him a grimace-like smile. "Not that it's any less painful," he muttered, rubbing his side and wincing.

"The infirmary?" Draco asked in a higher voice than usual. "You're kidding."

"Actually, no," Gareth answered. "Last year, Mercurius Rosier got sent to the infirmary after dueling with Riddle."

As if on cue, Merrythought spoke, "Mr. Malloy, why don't you go next?"

Draco's jaws dropped open while Hermione's eyes widened, and she immediately grabbed his wand and stuffed her own wand into his hand. When she looked up again, she found both Merrythought and Tom staring at her strangely.

"We dropped our wands, and Draco accidentally picked up mine instead," Hermione quickly lied.

Merrythought seemed placated by her answer, but Tom raised an eyebrow at her, letting her know that he did not believe what she was saying. She quickly looked somewhere else, not wanting to give him the chance to pick up what was going through her mind.

Swallowing hard and taking as much time as he could, Draco shuffled to the middle of the arena. Hermione crossed her fingers, hoping that things would not turn out too badly for him. However, that subtle threatening air that accompanied Tom's smile did not help in alleviating her fears at all.

"Begin!" Merrythought called out.

Hermione did not have time to blink and Tom's first curse was already thrown Draco's way. Thankfully, Draco dodged out of the way just in time, while casting a Shield Charm in front of himself. The neon blue light streaked past where Draco was standing a few seconds before and went over the heads of people standing there. A subtle dark brown ray, the second spell sent by Tom, crackled against his ward, causing Draco to take another step backwards.

"Attack, Mr. Malloy," Merrythought instructed, shaking her head. "Constantly relying on defensive methods will not help you win this round."

Hermione glanced at Tom. His calmness contrasted sharply with Draco's franticness. With a certain indescribable grace and elegance, he lazily flicked one hex after another towards Draco. His eyebrow slightly quirked as if he saw something funny when they deflected from the shield Draco had cast around himself. He slashed his wand downwards to the side, brought it over his head, and then swirled it forward, releasing a streak of pale orange light. Right after that spell left the tip of his wand, he swiped his wand to the side, bringing it upwards as if drawing a circle and stopping when it was pointed towards Draco, and a burst of white light followed right after the first spell.

The pale orange light spread over the shield Draco erected before shredding it to pieces. The white light, which traveled a tad bit slower than the first spell, impacted into Draco before he had the time to react. With a yell, he crashed into the floor, and Hermione's wand rolled to his side as he fell unconscious.

Several gasps accompanied Draco's fall, and Merrythought immediately went over to his side. "Oh dear ... Mr. Malfoy, do you mind taking Mr. Malloy to the infirmary?"

Abraxas nodded and climbed up the arena. He first picked up Hermione's wand, stuffed it into Draco's pocket, and levitated his grandson to the infirmary. Hermione bit her tongue, realizing how suspicious it would sound if she asked for the wand. Her eyes then fell on Draco's unconscious face, and concern filled her heart once more.

"Did anyone bother telling Professor Merrythought that this is far too dangerous?" Hermione hissed at Joseph.

He cast a strange look at Hermione. "You're asking that after Hunting Day?" He paused. "If students wanted to complain, I would think that it would be about Hunting Day. I mean, at least students would not aim to kill each other."

 _Try telling that to Tom_ , Hermione thought exasperatedly to herself.

"Mr. Evans, please come forward," Merrythought called out.

Cautiously, Harry approached the center of the arena. Hermione's gaze flickered over to Tom, and she found that the carefree attitude with which he had held himself in previous duels had completely vanished. A shiver ran down Hermione's spine as Tom regarded Harry with a coldness bordering on cruelty, and she realized that the previous duels meant nothing to him at all. This was the duel he had been looking forward to.

For once, she seriously thought about Trelawney's prophecy. Were there any ways to prevent their fates from clashing? Did the two of them really had to battle to the end? Frankly speaking, Divination had always been a load of tosh to Hermione. She could not take it seriously, even after what happened between Harry and Lord Voldemort. To her, it was more of a self-fulfilling prophecy, and if Lord Voldemort had not been so intent on following through with trying to kill Harry by himself, the prophecy would have never come true. However, seeing the random events that churned their relationships, nearly forcing Harry and Tom to become enemies with one another, she was forced to reconsider the validity of the old fraud's prediction.

"Begin!" Merrythought's voice echoed through the Quidditch Pitch.

Yet, neither Harry nor Tom attacked. They stood, still as two boulders, and the rest of the students seemed to feel the tension between them. Everyone remained hushed, their eyes waiting for one of the dark haired young men to make the first move.

Hermione bit into her lower lip, extremely worried about Harry. She knew that he was an excellent dueler. However, Harry now had the disadvantage of using someone else's wand. It was needless to say that Tom was also an excellent dueler, and a couple of times during the last few duels, he had been using nonverbal magic. Efficiently.

She wrung her hands together, with Harry's wand in between them, wondering if she should have allowed Harry to fight with his own wand. But that would have risked letting Tom know about the strange connection between their wands, which would undoubtedly change something in the future.

Without warning, Tom and Harry moved at the same time. Bright yellow met with burgundy right in the middle of the arena, followed by a clash of purple and blue.

"My, my, excellent reflexes, Mr. Evans!" Merrythought muttered.

It was then Hermione noticed that the professor had a parchment in hand and was taking notes on the duel. Merrythought probably did not even notice that she was saying those commentaries out loud.

A loud crack brought Hermione's attention back to the duel that was going on between Tom and Harry. Flurries of hexes clashed with one another, and both duelers were throwing spells at one another had a fast pace. She hardly had time to see where one curse was going and another one would be fired. A few more minutes passed, and students began to murmur amongst themselves. Admiration for both the dueling skills of Tom and Harry were being expressed in whispers while more spells flew through the air.

Suddenly, Tom flicked his wand twice, and Hermione very nearly wanted to shout "Watch out" at Harry. However, before she had the chance to do so, the second spell Tom cast hit Harry straight on his leg, causing him to crash down to the floor. Yet, Harry refused to give up. Determination flooded those eyes behind the glasses, and kneeling on the floor on one knee, he threw another cyan-colored spell towards Tom, who stepped aside and cast a spell of his own.

" _Expelliarmus_!"

It happened like one of those Muggle slow-motioned movies. The irony of the situation might have made Hermione laugh if the conditions were different. However, a silent scream caused her mouth to drop open as she watched Harry fly out of the arena and fall far out on the grassy fields with a loud thump—it was even further than where Abraxas had landed before.

Hermione's first reaction was to rush over to see if Harry was alright, but Merrythought immediately ordered, "Everyone stay where you are."

The professor rushed over to where Harry was and crouched down. Hermione stood on her tiptoes, wanting to see if he was alright. A few seconds later, Merrythought helped Harry up and walked back to the wide circle with him. She then conjured a chair and demanded for him to sit in it.

"I'm alright, Professor," Hermione heard Harry insist.

"Just stay seated, Mr. Evans. Excellent work, by the way," Merrythought complimented, beaming at him.

The students then seemed to break out of their stupor and proceeded to give both Tom and Harry a round of applause while shouting compliments to each of them. Hermione noticed a couple of the female students looking at Harry with a different kind of gaze. It was, after all, not every day they found someone who managed to put up his own fight against Tom.

"I never knew Harry could duel so well," Gareth said to Hermione.

"He's one of the best duelers in our year," Hermione replied truthfully, a huge grin on her face.

And that was without using his own wand! Hermione was honestly proud of her best friend.

When the students finally settled down, Merrythought spoke, "Ah yes. Why don't you go next, Hermione dear?"

Hermione froze in her spot as the request rang in her ears like an alarm. She twisted her neck around and stared at Harry who had an equally horrified look on his face.

She was holding on to Harry's wand.

~-0-~

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **A/N** : Huge thanks to my betas, catcachoo (from PI) and Nerys. 


	35. Chapter 35

"Hermione? Are you alright?" Merrythought asked when she did not so much as reply or move.

Blinking her eyes rapidly twice, Hermione looked at her and replied almost mechanically, "Yes, Professor ... I ..."

A sympathetic and kindly expression appeared on the professor's face. "Don't you worry too much, dear. Just try your best. I'm pretty sure that you can give Tom a run for his money." She glanced at Tom, who gave her a smile.

Hermione swallowed, but it hardly helped her overly dried throat. Merrythought did not understand that this was not about if she could win or not ... well, okay, perhaps it did. She knew that he must have gotten an "O" on his O.W.L. In contrast, she had only gotten an "E," something which she did not like to think about. The thought of losing to him in a duel and in front of so many people ... that was just intolerable to Hermione.

She shook her head, almost finding it laughable that she was worrying about winning or losing. Her main concern right now should be the holly wand lying in the palm of her hand.

Taking a deep breath and shooting another glance at Harry (who looked like he was permanently frozen to his seat), Hermione walked up the stairs with as much courage as she could muster. Iris, who was standing in the crowd behind Tom, smirked at her. That tiny motion made her straighten up her back, and when she got to the center of the stage, she was pretty sure that her face was composed enough to not show how afraid she actually was.

Tom's posture was relaxed, and a single pale, long finger slid down the yew wand, as if he were already contemplating on what spells to use. Hermione's eyes flickered upwards and met with his. He tilted his head to one side, his gaze holding unspoken questions.

"Bow to your opponents!" Merrythought instructed on the sidelines.

Hermione was not positive, but she thought she heard a speck of anticipation in the professor's voice. Nonetheless, she still bowed towards Tom the same moment he did. A hint of a smile appeared on his face when they straightened themselves up.

"Begin!"

Surprisingly, he neither took on a defensive nor offensive posture.

"Ladies first," he said, gesturing towards her.

Hermione hesitated, trying to remembering everything she needed to about the twin cores. Harry and Lord Voldemort's wand connected because they cast simultaneously. If she avoided casting at the same time as Tom did, perhaps the Reverse Spell Effect would not occur. Perhaps she could try elemental and object magic, too, so that her spells would not directly come in contact with his.

A worried frown appeared on her face as she contemplated what would happen if she lost the duel. Would it have any effect on future events? Well, it was obvious that it probably would, but would it directly lead to Harry losing against Lord Voldemort? The thought in itself made her anxious. For the sake of Harry, she could not afford to lose to Tom in this duel.

Tom quirked a single eyebrow, obvious wondering when she planned to start. Finally, she positioned herself for attack. With a quick swirl of the wand, a shard of ice rushed towards Tom. Almost immediately, he stepped to the side, and a spell was flung her way. Not wanting the spells from the wands to connect, Hermione dodged to the side instead of putting up a Shield Charm.

However, when she turned around, she stared. The spell traveled at an impossibly slow speed before it finally shriveled up and disappeared, two feet away from where she was standing previously. Initial confusion turned into unprecedented anger that boiled inside Hermione, and she narrowed her eyes at Tom, who shrugged.

"Oops," he said, an annoying smirk lingering on his lips.

She tightened her grip around the wand, the rational side of her mind trying to urge the annoyance down. However, the recklessness in her was winning quite effortlessly. What fueled it even more was the fact that he was now standing there, twirling his wand idly as if he were not in the middle of a duel. He was obviously not taking this seriously, and it thoroughly irked Hermione.

"Reckon you can win the duel by kissing her, Tom?" someone shouted from where most of the Slytherins were standing.

"Mr. Rosier, five points from Slytherin," Merrythought spoke up, frowning while some other students snickered. "You know quite well that taunts and jeers are not allowed during a duel."

Hermione, however, was not concentrating on what Merrythought was saying. She could always deal with Mercurius Rosier later on.

_To hell with "E" for Defense._

Her hand moved quickly as her mind concentrated on the spells she was going to cast, and she consecutively threw four different spells at him, completely forgetting that she was trying to avoid casting simultaneously with him until the last spell left her wand. However, her worries were quickly forgotten when her strategy worked.

She purposely placed less force behind the first and last spells; they worked somewhat as lures. Most wizards and witches would fire consecutive spells to confuse the opponents, with the most force behind the last spell cast. Tom would have guessed that Hermione would not do something conventional and that her last spell would not be the most powerful one, but he had not foreseen that she would risk shooting two stronger spells, one after the other.

A grin blossomed on her face when the second spell caught Tom off guard, making him take two steps backwards. A look of surprise appeared on his face, and he stepped to the side a millisecond too slow. The third spell grazed against his leg, making a slash in it and causing him to fall down to knees. Blood splattered on the ground as a few girls from the crowd gasped, and the chattering from the rest of the students stopped, just as the fourth and last spell swiped against his arm, giving him a smaller wound there. More blood joined the red stains on the floor, the sound eerily loud against the silence of the crowd.

Suddenly, someone who sounded suspiciously like Joseph cheered loudly in the crowd.

"Excellent, Miss Granger! I've always known you had potential," Merrythought muttered on the side, scribbling something on to her piece of parchment.

Calmly, Tom waved his wand over the afflicted areas before he stood up and stared back at Hermione. She swallowed hard when she saw that expression on his face, suddenly remembering that it was not a very good idea for her to taunt him when she was trying to avoid letting the spells from the two wands come in contact with one another. After spending quite a good amount of time with him, she could safely say that she knew what some of his expressions stood for.

And right now, she was a hundred percent positive that he was infuriated.

_Merlin's pants! Chamber of Secrets tour definitely cancelled. I'll be fed to the basilisk this time for sure._

Knowing that matters would probably be worse if she stood around and allowed him to hex her to oblivion, she flicked her wand.

 _Don't let the spells hit one another directly_ , she chanted to herself like a mantra.

" _Flammaritimus_!" she cast, sending a mass of flames towards him and glad that, somehow, Harry's wand was working better for her than Bellatrix's.

With an intricate twirl of his wand, a light blue shield—the color of which indicated that it was not the normal Shield Charm—surrounded him. The moment her flames touched his shield, the light blue film concaved towards him before splashing over the sea of fire like an ocean wave.

It was all over in a matter of seconds, and before she had a chance to cast another spell, he had already thrown three spells towards her, the one in the middle headed directly towards her and the other two racing towards either side of her. She immediately threw herself on the floor to avoid getting hurt by the spells. Rolling clear of the curses that flew over her head, she immediately jumped up, only to be hit in the stomach by a fourth spell he had thrown her way.

"Oomph," she grunted from the impact as she landed on her behind.

She distinctly heard a gasp, and she could only guess that it was from Harry; she did not have enough time to look. Someone else laughed, obviously quite happy about her situation. She immediately got up, disregarding the pain, and moved to the side before another one of Tom's hexes could hit her.

He was not holding back anymore, and Hermione could obviously feel it from the strength behind each and every one of his spells, even the ones that did not directly hit her. The speed at which he was throwing them at her also told her exactly how furious he was.

Perspiration formed on her forehead, and she wiped it away with her free hand. Her shirt stuck to her body, and she was slightly afraid that the wand would fly out of her hand from the sweat that had formed there. However, she could not take the chance or allow the hesitation. As quickly as she could, she flicked her wand upwards before drawing an imaginary eight in the air. Thrusting her wand upwards again, a flurry of pebbles was pelted at him.

A wall separated him from the pebbles before they even got close, and before she could react, the wall turned into liquid form and swished towards her. Out of reflex, she cast the Shield Charm. The moment the liquid covered her ward, it solidified into an almost stone-like dome around her.

" _Expulso_!" she cast towards the dome.

However, she had not anticipated what would happened in the next few seconds. The moment the incantation left her lips, the dome had already disappeared. Her eyes widened as the spell she had cast left the wand unhindered by anything in its path.

Except for the spell that had left Tom's wand.

Right in the middle of the arena, they collided. Time seemed to stand still as the two spells connected, and a golden thread appeared between the two wands. Her heart jumped to her throat as Harry's wand started to shake, almost as if it wanted to jump out of her hand.

_Shit!_

She tightened her grip around the wand, and she frantically looked towards Harry, who had stood up from his chair. Worry was etched on every feature of his face, and his hand tightened around Draco's wand. Merrythought seemed too shocked or confused to notice that her charge had disregarded her instructions for him to stay seated. The rest of the students stood still in confusion, some of them with their jaws dropped open. She turned her head around, and Tom appeared as surprised as everyone else.

Suddenly, both of them were lifted from the ground, causing a shriek to leave Hermione's mouth. Her heart raced as her eyes were drawn back to the connections between Tom and Harry's wands, and she regretted that she had not forced the details about what happened at the graveyard out of Harry. He had never mentioned anything about  _ **flying**_. Harry's wand nearly slipped out of her hand the moment she lost concentration. The feeling of the wand sliding from her hand frightened her, and she immediately clawed onto it again.

She swallowed hard and glared at the beam connecting her and Tom instead, since she got into this situation because of it. If she had been under less stressful conditions, she would have sighed out of relief when they landed a small distance away from the arena.

The beam of light between Harry and Tom's wand started to splinter and a gold cage-like dome started to form around her and Tom. The rest of the students ran over to where they were, surrounding them and taking care not to touch the strange gold light.

Gold, bead-like lights began to materialized between Harry and Tom's wand, and as each of them got closer to Hermione's end, she felt the wand heat up and shake even harder. Ghost images of the spells she had just cast floated upwards, and she felt her stomach drop.

Priori Incantatem.

She had been correct, but the problem was, she did not know how to get out of this situation right now. The dome surrounding her and Tom suddenly brightened visibly for a second before turning normal again. She glanced towards Harry and found that he had Draco's wand extended. He had obviously tried to cast a spell, trying to get her out of the situation, but it had not worked. Merrythought grabbed his shoulder and forced him down, her mouth moving as she chided him for trying to interfere, though her eyes never left the peculiar scene in front of them.

And now, Hermione really had no idea what to do right now as more and more of those bead-like lights got closer to her end.

"Don't let those beads get close to your wand!" Hermione heard Harry's muffled voice yell.

 _Well, yes, thanks, Harry, for telling_ **him** _that. As if I didn't have enough problems before_ , Hermione thought as she gritted her teeth.

And how was she supposed to prevent the beads from approaching Harry's wand?

As if on cue, the beads started to rapidly move towards her, proving that Tom had heard what Harry said. Hermione gripped onto the wand with both hands, willing the beads to go towards the other end. The effort seemed to slow down the speed at which they moved, but it did not stop them from heading in her direction.

"Break the connection!" Harry yelled this time.

_How?_

She shook the wand, trying to break the connection, but to no avail, and the wand shook even harder, as if it were trying to break free of her hold. Then she noticed that Tom was holding onto his wand with both hands, too, a determined expression on his face, making it rather obvious that he had heard what Harry shouted to her.

Just when she thought all was lost, a beautiful sound seemed to be emitted from the wand she was holding, and suddenly, she felt a renewed boost of courage. Concentrating with all her might, she willed for either the bond to break or the beads to move away.

Surprisingly, it worked.

Slowly, the beads started to move in Tom's direction. She spared a glance at him and found a surprised and frightened expression on his face as the phoenix's song sounded around them. Relief flooded through her, and she wondered if this could be the perfect moment to break the connection, since Tom was obviously not intent on maintaining it anymore.

As if they had communicated it beforehand, Tom and Hermione both slashed their wands to their sides, and the dome around them disappeared.

Time froze.

And then, everyone started talking.

"What just happened?"

"Is that some kind of strange spell that Granger learned back in Durmstrang?"

"She's the first person to hurt Riddle.  _ **Ever**_ —"

"Why did that happen?"

"Is it some sign that they should be the one who defeat Grindelwald?"

"I know, I know! It means that they are destined for one another! I've always thought they'd make a good couple!"

The person with the most peculiar expressions was Tom. He stared at Hermione, his eyes slightly narrowed, like he was trying to figure out a particularly difficult puzzle. She tried to look as confused as everyone else was while she kept her eyes on anything but him. Therefore, she did not see the occasional glances he shot in Harry's direction.

When her eyes finally landed on Harry, she found him with the frown on his face, as if he were in deep thought. When she caught his attention, he blinked once.

"Who won?" he mouthed to her.

Hermione stood still as a frown appeared on her face, and she stared at Harry with the same expression of contemplation.

Because she seriously had no idea what the answer to that question was, too.

~-0-~

Potions class turned out more complicated than Hermione had anticipated. Not only were they troubled by the possibility of Lord Voldemort winning in the future, Harry was worried about Tom cornering her again.

"He's going to try, I know he is," he said while they walked through the hallways.

When they entered the classroom, life proved to be less kind to Hermione than she had thought because lo and behold, Tom Marvolo Riddle was already there, staring at a particular spot on the wall and twirling his wand as he sat leisurely at their table. Harry had been less than happy to hear about the fact that Slughorn had insisted that Hermione and Tom had to work together and very nearly threw a fit when Tom refused to budge from the seat.

"We were working on the project before the holidays. It's called combined effort, Evans, in which each person who worked on the project would get the same grade, and I hardly feel inclined to give you a free 'O,'" Tom sneered.

After confirming with Slughorn that partners were, indeed, already chosen and could not be changed, Harry sat right beside Hermione, watching their interactions—or rather, scrutinizing the Dark Lord's every movement. He would have really liked to sit in between them, but both Slughorn and Tom would most likely object to that. Without a partner and without starting the project before the holidays, Slughorn had advised Harry to look on with other students. Thanks to Harry's presence, nonetheless, Hermione did not have to be pestered by Tom about what happened during the duel. However, it also provided him with an opportunity he hardly wanted to miss.

It started off with occasional brushes against her hand when he was passing her an ingredient or checking the fire. As they waited for the potion to boil, Tom leaned close to her ear without taking his eyes off the cauldron, disregarding the fact that Harry narrowed his eyes and had his hand gripped around his wand.

"You still have detentions to fulfill, Miss Granger," he whispered, causing her hair to slightly move and tickle her cheek.

Her face flushed red at the overly intimate gesture, and she was about to answer when Harry spoke up.

"Stay away from her, Riddle."

With a smirk on his face, Tom leaned slightly backwards, surprising Hermione. Since when did Tom Marvolo Riddle take commands from someone? Especially when said someone was Harry?

Indeed, her suspicions were instantly confirmed when someone's hand landed gently on her knee, causing her to gasp.

"What's wrong?" Harry immediately asked, eying her with concern.

"Nothing," she murmured, gesturing towards the pickled Moonflower roots in front of her. "I thought I cut them the wrong way."

While she spoke, her free hand went under the table and brushed away the offending hand. However, mere seconds later, Tom's fingers started tracing small circles on her thigh. She made a grab for them, but they kept evading her capture, as if he knew precisely what she was going to do.

She shot a glare at him, but he wasn't even looking at her. Instead, he was still calmly taking down notes and observing the cauldron. It made her frustrated. Half of her mind wanted to smack him. The other half, however, was busy fighting the strange excitement she felt from what he was doing. She knew it was wrong, but that was precisely what was so tempting about it: It was  _ **forbidden**_.

"I think we're missing some ingredients. Please do excuse us, Mr. Evans," Tom suddenly said, standing up.

"We are?" Hermione asked, checking over the list of ingredients on her desk.

She glanced at the remaining things beside the cauldron and found out that they were, indeed, missing a couple of ingredients. She frowned, since she clearly recalled Tom getting them before the holidays.

"I'll go," Harry immediately offered.

"It's our project, Mr. Evans. You're only supposed to watch," Tom replied smoothly. Strangely enough, Hermione thought there was a tinge of sarcasm in his voice.

He then swept out of his seat. When Hermione did not stand up, he turned his head and stared at her. She stubbornly gazed back at him, suspicion written on every feature of her face.

"If we don't get the ingredients, we can't finish the project, Hermione, which means we might fail it," he reminded her, his tone almost mocking.

His words only caused her to become even more suspicious, and she crossed her arms over her chest, wondering what he was getting out of this. He certainly would not risk torturing her for information in the storage room, given that there was a whole classroom full of people right outside of it. However, she wouldn't put it pass him to have his hands all over her before suddenly pointing his wand at her and threatening her.

"Is everything alright here?" Slughorn asked, a wide grin on his face as he looked over the potion brewed by his favorite students.

"We're missing taggleworms and Plucktorian roots, professor," Tom replied, his eyes still remaining on Hermione.

"Oh, right! I recall you telling me during the holidays that yours got contaminated," Slughorn said.

"Yes, professor," Tom answered.

A small frown appeared on Hermione's face. It was only two ingredients. Why would he need help with them?

"Alright then," said Slughorn. "I'll look over your potion while you and Hermione look for the ingredients then." He looked at Hermione apologetically. "I do apologize, Hermione. One of the shelves fell down, and most of the ingredients that you and Tom put back into place are now out of order again. Perhaps you can come in one of these days to fulfill another day of your detention? We can talk about that after class. Why don't you and Tom go look for taggleworms and Plucktorian roots now instead?"

Having no other choice now, Hermione rose from her chair and followed Tom to the storage cabinet. Once the door swung close, Hermione was suddenly pulled into Tom's embrace, and his lips crashed down on hers before she had the chance to react.

"Naughty little witch," he said against her lips as he pressed her against him, almost as if he were trying to squeeze the life out of her.

Not that she really mind him kissing her like this (because Merlin knew how much she was enjoying it), however, she was worried that someone might walk through the door and find them all tangled up together.

"Stop it," Hermione hissed at him, trying to push him away as she stared at the door, like she was expecting Harry to barge in any second.

"Try and stop me," he challenged, and he pushed her against the table, making her sit on top of it.

"We're in here to look for ingredients!" she reminded him in a low voice, wondering if her voice can travel past the thin-looking door.

"Which would take quite a few minutes if we don't know where they are," he replied, and he brought his lips in contact with hers again.

Running his hand through her hair, he pressed her head closer to him, as if he were trying to mold them together. His lips moved downwards, trailing from her mouth all the way to her neck.

"Did it make you excited taunting me, Granger?" he asked quietly when he reached her ear.

A shiver ran down her spine when his breath blew against her skin, and she felt gooseflesh erupting across her arm and legs.

"No," she whispered, her eyes slightly hooded as she waited for him to kiss her again.

"You're a terrible liar as usual, Granger," he said, never taking his eyes off her. His voice, though soft, surrounded her. "Tsk, tsk, tsk. So terribly naughty of you, Granger. Don't you remember that Evans is right outside? He's worried that I might be torturing you into submission ... You like this, don't you? You like the fact that someone might catch us doing something like this." He kissed her softly on her ear. "You like that it's against the rules, don't you?"

Before she could answer, he pulled away, causing a soft growl of protest to leave her mouth. The corner of his lips curved upwards at her response.

"Let's go," he commanded instead, walking towards the door.

"And the ingredients?" she asked, crossing her arms over her chest and utterly annoyed with him right now.

His grin widened as he slipped his hand into his pocket, producing said ingredients. Hermione's eyes narrowed, and she stared at him venomously as she slid off the table.

"Then  _ **what**_  was the point of pulling me in here?" she hissed, slowly walking towards him.

However, Tom apparently found her not too threatening at all and raised a single eyebrow at her. "Do I need a reason for everything I do, Granger?"

Without waiting for her to open her mouth again, he pulled open the door, leaving Hermione behind him. Pushing her anger down, she spent a few seconds mentally cursing Tom before she followed after him. However, that smirk on Tom's face was enough to destroy any barricade she had built to hold back her temper.

"What happened?" Harry immediately asked, noticing the less than pleasant mood she was in.

"An overbearing, annoying git," she muttered as she prepared the taggleworms.

However, she managed to bide her time. She waited and waited for the end of class. After they handed in their work, Hermione made a point to pack extra fast, ignoring the bewildered expression on Harry's face. Pushing back her chair, she kept her eyes firmly glued to her target as she stood up, and then, she stomped down.

Right on  _ **his**_  foot.

A pain-filled hiss reached her ears, and a wide, slightly mad grin appeared on her face.

"Oops," she said to Tom. "Sorry."

Without taking a second look at him, she immediately escaped the Potions classroom with Harry, who gazed at Hermione with his mouth slightly opened.

"You're going to get yourself killed," Harry kept muttering under his breath as they placed as much distance as possible between themselves and Tom Marvolo Riddle.

That was precisely the reason why Harry was hesitant to leave Hermione all alone to search for Ginny. After a rather long (and in Hermione's opinion, unnecessary) period of persuasion, they parted ways.

After casting a  _Muffliato_  on the curtain surrounding Draco in the infirmary, Hermione proceeded to tell him everything that had happened during the duel.

"So what does  _ **that**_  mean?" Draco asked frantically.

"Harry doesn't know either, but he's not about to try," Hermione replied as she pulled Draco's blanket up for him.

According to Madam Pomfrey, Draco had broken a few bones in the duel. Although she had managed to heal the fractured bones immediately, she required him to stay half a day to make sure that all of his organs and limbs were in working order.

"So you're saying that You-Know-Who can probably beat Potty now?" Draco asked, frightened. "You've got to be kidding me."

"It's ... not exactly set in stone yet," Hermione answered slowly. "We're not supposed to change time ..."

"Hermione, we're not  _ **supposed to**_ , but that doesn't mean we  _ **can't**_ , right?" Draco pressed on.

"Technically ..."

Draco sent her an exasperated look, making Hermione sigh heavily and nod.

"But that doesn't mean we  _ **should**_  change the timeline, Draco," she added firmly. "We could all—"

"—very well make ourselves disappear, Draco," he finished her sentence, in an eerily good imitation of her. "You've told me at least thirteen times already, Hermione. No need to remind me again. But haven't you thought about it? We would have disappeared already if we did make changes so drastic that we killed ourselves. Perhaps we would have been born regardless of what we did, but we'd just be born under difference circumstances."

Hermione did not answer immediately, trying to digest what Draco just told her.

"But that's—"

"Not what the books say," Draco finished for her again. "But not everything in the books are rules. None of the wizards and witches are all-knowing. Even your hero, Bumblebee—"

"Bumblebee?" Hermione cut in, frowning.

"Dumbledore," Draco explained, earning a glare from her, which he ignored, "did not know everything. This whole time traveling thing is the biggest example."

"That doesn't mean that we should disregard everything and start doing things that might change the future," Hermione argued.

"I'm not telling you to change the future, Hermione," Draco said, rolling his eyes. "I do not fancy living in a future where the Dark Lord tortures my family daily for turning on him at the last minute. I'm just saying, perhaps you should take a step back and not rule out the possibility that every little change we do in the past will kill all of us."

Hermione closed her eyes, trying to fully process that thought. It confused her thoroughly. According to what she knew, people who killed their past selves got wiped off, virtually disappearing a short period afterwards. Nobody understood what happened. Perhaps they were thrown into alternate dimensions or perhaps they were completely wiped off existence. She was pretty sure that alternate dimensions were being experimented upon behind one of those many doors at the Ministry of Magic. However, right now, it was just too much for her to take in.

"And another thing," Draco spoke up, catching her attention. "You'd probably want to be careful about Riddle. He's not going to be too happy about you hurting him during the duel."

"Harry warned me about that already," Hermione said with a sigh. "It means that I probably can't go—"

She stopped herself immediately, almost disclosing the Chamber of Secrets in front of Draco. She did not fancy testing out what spell, exactly, Tom had placed on her. Draco stared at her curiously, waiting for her to finish her sentence. Thankfully, the curtains were drawn open by Harry and Ginny, who slipped in.

"You're trying to get yourself killed, Hermione," Ginny immediately hissed as Harry cast another  _Muffliato_  at the curtains. "Just because—" She stopped in her words. Hermione could almost guess what she was about to say, causing her cheeks to turn red. "Just because he shows interest in you, it doesn't mean he would hesitate in killing you if you do something he doesn't like."

"He's going to try to find out more about the wands, too," Harry pointed out, not noticing the change in Hermione's features.

"And you can't tell who won during the duel?" Draco asked.

Harry shook his head. "I'm pretty sure the position of the beads could have told us who won, but they broke off the connection so abruptly that I couldn't quite tell."

"Do you think he might ... try it again?" Draco inquired carefully.

"I doubt it," Harry replied with a shrug, "but I don't know for sure. When he was older—"

The curtains were suddenly thrown open, causing him to halt in his words. Madam Pomfrey bustled in to check on Draco.

"Oh, the three of you are here," Madam Pomfrey said upon seeing Harry, Ginny, and Hermione. She then turned towards Draco, "You have quite a bit of visitors."

If Draco was not having pains all over his body, preventing him from moving, Hermione was pretty sure he would have bolted when Tom appeared behind Madam Pomfrey.

"Good evening, Mr. Malloy," he said genially.

"What are you doing here, Riddle?" Harry demanded, earning a look from Madam Pomfrey.

Tom's lips curved into a mocking smile as he turned towards Harry. "Mr. Malloy did end up in the infirmary because of me. I, of course, have the responsibility of ... checking up on him to make sure he's alright."

His eyes momentarily flickered over to Hermione, and she stared back at him, keeping her mind as blank as her expression. She was not going to give him the satisfaction of seeing her unsettled.

"I'm sure you really care," Harry muttered.

"Why, Mr. Evans. If I hadn't known better, I would've thought that you were accusing me of trying to hurt Mr. Malloy," Tom said.

"I'm sure that's not what Mr. Evans meant," Madam Pomfrey spoke up, shooting a warning glance at Harry.

"I wouldn't think so, too, Madam Pomfrey. It was merely an ill thought-out joke. I apologize," Tom said smoothly.

"Oh, no need for apologies, Tom. I've always known what a kind, young man you are," she said fondly before she hurried back to her office to retrieve potions for Draco.

"What do you really want, Riddle? We know what's beneath that angelic facade you put up," Harry whispered immediately when Madam Pomfrey was out of sight.

With minimal movement, the smile on Tom's face curved into a sneer, and he crossed his arms over his chest.

"Isn't it quite obvious, Evans? I am putting on an, as you've so eloquently placed it, 'angelic facade,' so wouldn't it make sense for me to visit the person that I've ...  _ **accidentally**_  hurt?" he asked.

"But it's obviously not the only thing you're here for," Harry retorted.

"'Obviously?'" Tom repeated.

Slowly, he leaned forward, placing his hands on Draco's bed to support himself. A strange kind of whimper came from Draco as he shrank away from Tom, though the rest of them did not spare him a glance.

"I'm starting to wonder if all Gryffindors are cursed with the same horrible acting skills," Tom said softly, his gaze never so much as flickering away from Harry's face, "but what you're saying contradicts severely with your claim of not knowing about me beforehand, Evans. However," he smiled again, "you are not incorrect. I was searching for Hermione."

"No," Harry immediately answered.

Tom raised an eyebrow. "No? I wasn't asking for your permission, Evans."

"She's my friend, and I know why you're looking for her," Harry said, his body tense as he held on to Hermione's arm.

"Oh?" The single syllable left Tom's lips languidly, and his eyes met with Hermione's, burning into them. "Do you  _ **really**_  know why I was looking for her?"

The way he was speaking added a tinge of intimacy to his words, almost like there was some hidden meaning behind them, and despite her previous resolution, her cheeks immediately turned into a deep shade of rouge. The innuendos were obviously missed by Harry, since he continued glaring at Tom. However, it was hardly missed by Ginny and Draco. Ginny already knew what was going on between Tom and her, but when Hermione saw Draco arching an eyebrow at her beet-red face, she lightly coughed, trying to hide away her discomfort.

"Why else are you looking for her? Oh, right. Because you were trying to make people believe that there's something going on between you and Hermione. Well, it's not going to work, Riddle. Hermione doesn't like you. She has a boyfriend already," Harry said furiously.

Tom's gaze visibly hardened before it landed on Harry again.

 _Not this again_ , Hermione mentally moaned.

That was the wrong thing to say to Tom. His displeasure was flowing off him in waves, and though she did feel slightly guilty when she remembered about Ron, the mere thought of rowing with Tom made her head hurt even more.

"So I've heard," Tom replied, his voice as cold as his expression. "But that doesn't mean that you can speak for her, Evans. She's a grown woman, and she could very well make her own decisions."

Harry was about to open his mouth to say something but was stopped when they heard Madam Pomfrey walking out of her room. Tom immediately straightened up and recomposed his face, though his eyes were still tumultuous.

"I suppose you can leave after dinner. I will inform the kitchen to bring up your dinner," Madam Pomfrey assessed. She turned towards Tom. "Tom dear, do you mind bringing some potions over to Headmaster Dippet for me?"

"I'd be delighted, Madam Pomfrey," he replied, the previous animosity he had shown towards Harry completely gone.

After shooting one last glance at Hermione, he turned on his heel and left.

"I knew he was going to do that. I knew he was going to ask you about what happened during the duel," Harry immediately said after Madam Pomfrey brought Draco dinner and  _Muffliato_  was cast on the curtains again.

"What if he finds out about the wands?" Draco asked. Suddenly, he sat straight up. "He's going to think that it's my wand, isn't he?"

"I don't think so," Harry replied, running a hand through his hair. "I think he knows that the wand belongs to me. We ... well, I was telling Hermione what to do when the wands connected. I'm pretty sure he'd work out the truth."

"Are you sure?" Draco questioned him.

Harry nodded, to which Draco gave out a sigh of relief.

"What about you now? He's obviously going to try to get answers from you because he knows Harry's not going to tell him anything," Ginny pointed out, staring at Hermione worriedly.

"I don't think he'd go as far as trying to hex me again," Hermione replied slowly.

"Yeah, because you might knee him again," Draco added.

Hermione glared at him, and he held up his hands in defeat.

"But that doesn't mean he might not try something else ... what if he throws you into the Chamber of Secrets?" Ginny asked.

Harry's eyes momentarily softened. He placed his hand on Ginny's shoulder as a gesture of support, knowing how hard it was for her to mention things pertaining to that particular memory.

Hermione heart raced, determined to keep her mouth shut, just in case any word might accidentally trigger the spell, and hoping they would end the conversation soon without her input.

"What monster lives in the Chamber of Secrets anyway?" Draco asked, stabbing his fork into his pasta.

"Oh, the basilisk," Harry replied.

The fork dropped, and Draco's mouth dropped open. "The basilisk? How on Earth did you manage to live confronting that, Evans?"

"Well, it wasn't all me. Hermione helped a lot," Harry said, looking at Hermione proudly. "She was the one who figured out what the monster was in the first place or I couldn't have prepared for it. I mean, one look in the eyes and then ..." He then shot her a grateful smile.

She gave him a rather forced smile back. She was more than glad when Draco continued asking him questions so he did not have a chance to analyze her expression, though that also meant that the conversation about the Chamber had to continue on.

"So how did you find out that it was a basilisk? There are hundreds and thousands of creatures out there," Draco suddenly turned his attention back to her.

Her body slightly tensed up, and she shifted on her feet uncomfortably. "Well ... it's nothing really ..."

"Now she's being modest. Come on, tell me, Hermione," Draco pestered her.

"We have other more important matters at hand right now," she reminded them.

"But this is pertaining to the 'important matters!' Who knows if Riddle might open the Chamber again or not?" Draco pointed out.

"Don't be silly, Draco," said Hermione. "According to the timeline, he's not going to open it again."

The moment the last word slipped out of her mouth, she felt something sank its teeth into her shoulder, quickly followed by another on her arm. She did not even have to wait for the effects to begin to realize that whatever spell Tom had placed on her was activated.

"But you just admitted it yourself: The timeline can be changed. He might decide to throw us down there, and nobody will ever find out where we've gone," Draco spoke frantically.

"I thought you said the timeline can't be changed," Ginny said to Harry with a frown.

"I didn't say we can't change it. I just said that Hermione warned us against changing it," Harry corrected her.

Hermione, on the other hand, was not listening to their conversation. They were so deep into their discussion that did not even notice that something was wrong with her.

"I ... I'll talk to the three of you later," she stammered as her vision slightly blurred.

She forced a smile on her face and hoped it looked genuine to her friends. She did not need them to follow and find out who she was looking for. Grabbing her bag off the chair next to Draco's bed, she disregarded the confused expressions on her friends' faces and ran out of the infirmary.

Whatever spell it was, it was moving quickly. Her brain was already reacting slower than usual, but that did not prevent her from deducing that there must be some kind of invisible snakes encircling her, and they were slowly constricting around her now. She knew she had to find Tom, but how? Madam Pomfrey had told him to bring potions to Headmaster Dippet, she had no idea if he were still there. However, the moment she thought about looking for him, the image of the Potions classroom appeared in her mind.

Without thinking, she ran full speed towards the dungeons.

~-0-~

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **A/N** : Many thanks to catcachoo (from PI) and Nerys for beta-ing the chapter. 


	36. Chapter 36

**Chapter 36**

The world swirled around her, and she felt her vision focusing in and out. Her stomach lurched, nearly causing her to stop in her steps, but she knew she could not afford to stall. She sighed out of relief the moment the Potions classroom came in sight, and using the last burst of energy, she ran towards it. What she had not been prepared was the door opening and the appearance of Tom. Before she could even think about stopping in her steps, she slammed full force into him. His arms steadied her, and the moment she was standing still, dizziness swept through her.

"Arse ... I wasn't ... even telling them ... about the ... Chamber," she muttered, panting from running and from the effects of the spell.

Glancing both ways down the hall, Tom pulled her into the Potions classroom and locked the door behind them.

"The spell wouldn't have been activated if you hadn't spoken about it," he said, his voice barely above a whisper.

Merlin, she could barely open her eyes now, let alone talk. A whispered string of Parseltongue left his lips, and the squeezing hold of the invisible snakes loosened. Welcomed air swooshed into her lungs, and she hungrily breathed it in. Though the effects of the venom were still intact, she felt slightly comfortable enough to speak.

"I was stopping them from talking about it," she replied.

"I'm sure the Chamber of Secrets is a very common topic to chat about," he commented wryly.

She buried her head into his chest, not even sure how she should answer that comment. She could not actually tell him that Draco was pestering her to tell him about how she figured out what the monster in the Chamber was.

"I didn't start the conversation," she said instead, closing her eyes, "nor did I tell them about it. I've told you already ... Gareth and Joseph mentioned Myrtle to us on the second day we arrived her."

A stinging pain started to form on her shoulder, and she involuntarily cringed from it.

"Give me a good reason why I should believe you, Hermione," he spoke quietly.

Her head swirled, and she knew she would have crashed onto the floor if he had not been holding on to her. For a moment, she wondered if he were going to let her die. For whatever reasons, the venom seemed to move slower in his presence, but he had made no move to cure her.

The things she had done earlier flashed through her mind, and she nearly groaned. Why did she think that it was a good idea to step on his foot again? Well, yes, he had been annoying, and the things he was doing during class warranted much more than just a stomp on the foot, but she was pretty sure that it gave him another reason to make her suffer from the venom.

Suddenly, her stomach lurched again. Noticing how her body stiffened, he pushed her over his arm just seconds before she started dry-heaving. She was awfully glad that she had not gone to dinner yet because of her visit to the infirmary.

She mildly registered his hand moving agilely to the place where she had been bitten on her shoulder without needing her to inform him about it. Rubbing his thumb against the spot, he hissed softly, and slowly, the nausea started to go away. When he finally stopped, her mind was much clearer, and her vision was no longer as blurred as it was before. Nonetheless, she knew that she was not completely healed yet.

He placed her in one of the chairs and sat on top of the desk, facing her.

"The spell I've placed on you is activated when you mention anything pertaining to the Chamber, even if it's just a simple gesture, such as nodding or shaking your head," he said softly, placing his hands on either side of his legs and leaning slightly forward towards her. "The snakes surrounding you will inject its venom and start constricting around you. As you already know, the natural response would be to find the caster of the spell, who, in this case, is me, and the spell will let you know precisely where I am. A rather convenient spell created by Salazar Slytherin himself, though it could possibly be altered ..." His voice drifted off, and Hermione realized he was thinking to himself again.

She momentarily wondered if this spell was the ancestor of the spell that created Pettigrew's silver hand. After all, there were many qualities that were similar between the two.

"The poison won't kill you, if that's what you're wondering," he continued.

A wicked smile appeared on his face when a sigh of relief escaped her lips, immediately alarming her.

"But?" she asked.

He did not answer her. Instead, he asked in a sickeningly sweet voice, "For how long has the spell been activated?"

Her mind raced as her heart started to pound painfully against her chest. She knew there must be a reason why he sounded so pleased, and it did not make her at ease at all.

And then, she knew why.

Her mouth opened into a silent scream as she crashed on to the floor. She could not remember if the Cruciatus Curse caused this much pain, but at the moment, she could only concentrate on the feeling of every part of her body being crushed into a pulp. Cold sweat broke out across her skin, and her muscles convulsed. She tried to scream, but she could not. Her voice was stuck in her throat, and she could not dislodge it.

Tom made no move to help her. He merely sat there watching with an aloof expression on his face as her body twisted into an impossible angle. The pain went on and on, and she had no idea how long it lasted before it started to subside. She closed her eyes as she pressed her forehead against the cool surface of the floor, trying to push away the dizzy feeling that was still churning through her.

"You've probably worked out that the infirmary has no antidote for the poison," he suddenly spoke, alerting her. His lips curved into a faint smile when he noticed he had her attention. "The pain will occur every hour."

Her eyes widened, and despite the fact that every one of her muscles was still in pain, she pushed herself off the floor into sitting position and stared at him.

He shrugged and leaned backwards. "I've told you not to do anything foolish."

"Were you even listening? I told you I wasn't telling them about the Chamber of Secrets!" she said through gritted teeth.

"And I've told you already: The spell wouldn't have been activated if you weren't talking about it," he hissed, leaning forward again.

"I was telling them to shut up about it! If you've bothered to tell me the limitations and exactly what would have activated it, I would've excused myself completely from the conversation!" argued Hermione.

"I find it hard to believe that they would've been talking about it without you prompting it," he said.

"And why would I prompt them about it? I've told you already, Joseph and Gareth told us about Myrtle the first day we sat down for breakfast. It's not my fault that the rumor mill at Hogwarts never stops. Contrary to what you may believe, I do not have a death wish," she answered angrily.

_Though Harry, Ginny, and Draco might disagree._

He eyed her quietly, his expression yet again unreadable. Second later, he slid off the desk, leaned against it, and crossed his legs at his ankles.

"You've been here for more than three months already, Granger. Why are they still talking about gossip from then?" he asked.

She knew she could not let him suspect that the others knew what lived in the Chamber of Secrets. It would undoubtedly lead to complications, and the last thing she wanted was for Harry, Ginny, and Draco to worry about their backs wherever they go.

"They know I've been trying to work out what really happened to Myrtle," she explained. When she saw Tom's eyebrow quirk upwards, she immediately added, "They don't know how much I know about the Chamber. I've never got around to telling them about it."

_At least, Draco didn't know anything about the Chamber._

The thought slipped into her mind before she could stop herself. For the millionth time, she cursed at herself for not mastering Occlumency beforehand, and her fear proved itself to be well founded with his next question.

"And Mr. Evans?"

Hermione's mouth snapped shut, and she couldn't bring herself to avert her eyes because she knew it was pointless—it would be as telling as what was going through her mind right now. Fury flashed through his eyes as he took a step forward, so that he was towering over her.

"He knows," he said very, very quietly. "It seems that there is more than meets the eye with Mr. Evans. One would have to wonder just how much he knows ..." He circled around, stopping directly behind her. "What happened with the wands during our duel?"

His voice was sharp, though it was hardly any louder than how he was speaking before.

Hermione's eyes flitted around the room, trying to look for signs of Slughorn but to no avail. A soft chuckle came from behind her.

"Don't bother searching for the professor, Hermione. He's not coming back here anytime soon," said Tom.

She turned her head slightly and found him tapping his wand gently on the side of his leg. He raised a single eyebrow at her.

"We have plenty of time, Hermione. I daresay, he wouldn't be back before you've gone through at least another round of pain," he said. Tapping his wand on one of the chairs, he changed it into a plush armchair and sank into it. Pocketing his wand again, he placed his elbows on his knees and leaned forward. "I ask you again, what happened with the wands during our duel?"

"I don't know," replied Hermione as she stared back at him, a stubborn look etched on her face.

Her answer took him by surprise, and Hermione would have laughed at the taken aback expression on his face under different conditions.

"Granger—"

"I'm not telling you anything, Tom," Hermione interrupted him, "so I hope you enjoy waiting around for the hour, and if you do use Legilimency on me, have fun explaining to the professor why I'm exhausted from you using it on me or why I'm thrashing on the floor when the hour's up again."

Narrowing his eyes, he stood up, pulling her up with him. In contrast to his anger, an impish smile appeared on Hermione's face, since she knew that he was not about to risk his cover for something like this.

"Stubborn little witch," he hissed.

So much annoyance was present in his voice that Hermione nearly wanted to stick out her tongue at him, just to irritate him even more.

"The wand belongs to Mr. Evans, doesn't it?" Tom said quietly. "Did you think that the wand changing would have gone unnoticed by everyone? It might have tricked Merrythought, but it wasn't going to trick me, not to mention the less than inconspicuous instructions Mr. Evans was shouting at you. Although we both cast different spells, what occurred between the two wands was Priori Incantatem. Now, do tell me why that happened between the two wands. It never happened with any other person that I dueled with, and I have no doubt that it will only happen with Mr. Evans's wand."

He was closer to the truth than Hermione had anticipated, and that in itself made her uncomfortable. The notion of changing history nagged at the back of her mind again. Well, this obviously was not her fault, and nobody could blame her about this. If she had allowed Harry to duel with Tom without the change of wands, the same thing would have happened.

Though Tom would probably have a harder time trying to corner Harry by himself.

But in the end, after comparing the two different situations, Hermione had to say that she was glad it was her rather than Harry. If it were Harry, either he or Tom would undoubtedly end up in the infirmary or St. Mungo's.

A satisfied smile appeared briefly on Tom's face, but it was gone the second it appeared. Nonetheless, Hermione still saw it, and the fact that she had no idea why he was pleased worried her. He suddenly released her and sat back down in the armchair. He did not voluntarily speak, and that expression on his face only made her more anxious, until finally, he opened his mouth.

"I do recall that you needed to go back to the Chamber, don't you?" he changed the subject ever so casually.

As much as it pained the book-longing side of her, she felt a bit more relaxed. If he planned to use the Chamber as leverage, she had already known that her chances of going back were close to null.

"You were trying to find a way to travel to Germany, weren't you?" he continued.

His question struck her as weird, since that was precisely why he had brought her down to the Chamber of Secrets in the first place. Then, a possibility floated to the surface of her mind.

"You've found the book?" she asked, unable to hide the curiosity and excitement out of her voice. However, she stopped rather abruptly, and her eyes narrowed as suspicion rose higher than anticipation. "You're not tricking me with that, Tom. You're just using it as bait, aren't you?"

Much to her surprise, he laughed. In response, Hermione crossed her arms over her chest and glared at him, tapping her foot on the floor impatiently.

"Honestly, grow  ** _up_** , Riddle," she leered. "How old are you? Seven? Using these childish tactics—"

"You know what's so hilarious about you, Granger?" interrupted Tom, still laughing.

She stopped in her taunts and stared, thoroughly irked right now by his attitude and words. Deciding not to humor him, she remained quiet and waited for him to speak on his own accord. After all, talking seemed to be his favorite hobby.

Other than being annoying and trying and failing to kill toddlers.

His laughter finally slightly subsided, and he gazed at her, the humor still causing his eyes to glitter merrily. "It is so easy to tell you a lie and make you believe it, but when you're being told the truth ..." He started chuckling again.

She was positive about it now; she had proven it: He was barking mad.

"What are you going on about?" she inquired.

His mouth remained shut, waiting for her to work out what he meant by herself, but her mind drew blanks, until a specific conversation she had with him down in the Chamber surfaced.

" _Then what's the title of the book?"_

" _I wouldn't remember now, would I?"_

" _You? Not remembering something?"_

" _Now why would I hide that piece of information from you?"_

" _How am I supposed to know?"_

" _Pray tell, Granger, why else would I risk letting you know who the Heir of Slytherin really is? Such accusations after I had so ... kindly brought you down here. And here I am, trying to help you find the book, and you accused me of hiding it from you."_

Her breathing quickened, but this time, it had nothing to do with anxiety or pain.

"You ..." she seethed.

He raised an eyebrow, resting his elbows on the armrests and lacing his fingers together.

"You evil—You disgusting—You blasted—"

"Very eloquent speech there, Granger," he mocked, leaning backwards on the chair.

She stomped over so that she was hovering over him. Even her hair seemed to be crackling from her anger.

"So, now that you know what information I possess," he said, taking his time and allowing his eyes to drink in her furious expression, "I propose a deal."

"A deal? A  ** _deal_**? You lied to me, Tom Marvolo Riddle. What makes you think that I'm interested in making a deal with you?" she shrieked.

Apparently, her fury had no effect on him whatsoever. Casually, he lifted himself out of the armchair, once again towering over her.

"You've always assumed that I was a liar, haven't you, Granger? You've always believed that none of the words that came out of my mouth could be believed in, and anything I do always had an ulterior motive. So do tell me, why does it make you so surprised when I am doing things that you've always known I'll do?" he asked, his words filled with curiosity and amusement.

She opened and closed her mouth a few times, trying to come up with a remark to that but to no avail. Grudgingly, she had to admit that he was right. She had always known how manipulative he could be, so it should not surprise her at all that he did something like this. Nonetheless, it still irritated her, especially when she had no idea why he had chosen to conceal that information from her until now. He had no idea about the wands until after their trip down to the Chamber of Secrets after all.

"The cure to the venom that running through your veins right now and a way to travel to Germany for one thing in return, Hermione. It's not every day that I am so ... generous," said Tom, twirling a strand of her hair around his finger.

"It's blackmail," she retorted.

He grinned. "Of course you may call it that. I prefer to think of it as a trade."

She huffed. Trade indeed, in which he was getting more benefits than she was. Additionally, she was very sure that other than the information she had to offer, he was going to get something else out of this deal, though she had no idea what it was at the moment.

"So ... do we agree on the trade?"

"You wish, Riddle," replied Hermione, flicking away his hand. "I've told you already, I'm not telling you anything."

"No?" he asked, raising his eyebrow again. "I guess our dear old Transfiguration professor will have to remain missing then. Perhaps captured by Grindelwald ... Such a pity that you'll never return home."

His words made her cast her eyes downwards and bit her lower lip. A twinge of worry ran through her again. So what if the timeline changed? If Dumbledore disappeared or, even worse, died, the timeline would be changed anyway. She wanted to tear her hair out from the decision she had to make. It was too difficult, and what was worse was the fact that she had absolutely no idea what the correct answer here was.

Suddenly, the door opened, and Abraxas Malfoy froze at the doorway when he noticed Hermione standing there. Curiosity flashed through his eyes, but upon seeing the displeasure on his Lord's face, he lowered his gaze.

"What?" Tom snapped.

Abraxas gazed at Hermione a couple of times with a rather strange expression, as if he wanted to say something but did not know if he should.

"If you're going to stand there without doing anything, Abraxas ..." said Tom, trailing off warningly.

"Slughorn's just around the corner, two hallways down," Abraxas immediately answered.

Tom's eyes narrowed to mere slits. "And you decided to tell me now?"

"Goyle was supposed to tell me if he spots Slughorn coming—"

"Enough with your excuses," Tom cut in. "Stall him."

"B-but how?"

"Give him your supply of crystallized pineapples or show him your family portrait. What do I care? If he arrives here in less than fifteen minutes, I will be very displeased, Abraxas," said Tom.

Abraxas gulped, and the door immediately slammed closed after he disappeared through it. However, that was precisely when the venom of Tom's spell started to activate inside of Hermione, too.

Tom cursed under his breath as his arms went around her waist, preventing her from crashing onto the floor. She did not know if she were imagining it, but the intensity of the pain seemed to have increased. It caused tears to well up in her eyes, and without thinking, her mouth found his shoulder and bit down on it, causing him to hiss in pain.

"Let go, Granger," he demanded.

But she could not control her muscles, let alone loosening her jaw. Besides, it was his fault in the first place she was in pain, so it serves him right to feel some of it.

Very much annoyed, his fingers quickly found and dug down on the points where she had been bitten. He rapidly hissed in Parseltongue, and the pain slowly went away with each syllable that left his mouth. When he finally stopped, the breath she had not known she had been holding swooshed out of her lungs. She inhaled and exhaled deeply, trying to regulate her breathing, but before she knew what was happening, Tom tightened his hold around her waist and tipped her backwards, causing her to gasp when she fell on top of the table behind her. A yelp of pain was about to escape her throat, but his lips crashed down on hers, muffling it.

His legs tangled with hers, and one of his hands traveled down the side of her body, further confusing her. She wanted to ask him what the hell he was doing; this was too abrupt and very unlike the way he usually did things.

However, her question was answered the moment the door of the classroom creaked open, and Slughorn appeared.

Like Abraxas, Slughorn froze at the doorway.

"Oh!" he exclaimed, his eyes widening. "Oh ..."

As if taken by surprise, Tom jumped off Hermione's body and took a step back. A flush appeared on his pale cheeks, as if he were really embarrassed about being caught.

"Professor ... I'm ... I apologize," Tom stammered quietly, keeping his eyes downcast and glancing at Slughorn with uncertainty written all over his face.

Slughorn laughed heartily after recovering from his shock. "M'dear boy! There's no need to apologize," he chortled, winking at Tom before looking at Hermione. "If I'd found you with someone other than Hermione, of course, then I would expect apologies from you."

Hermione gave him a weak smile in return, embarrassment tinging her cheeks rouge.

"Now, were you here just to see Tom, Hermione? If you were I can always ..." Slughorn trailed off as he made the gesture of moving out the door.

Her cheeks turned to an ever deeper shade as she shook her head, not wanting him to make any more assumptions. "I ... I wanted to know when I should serve my next detention."

"Oh right! Your detention ... we were supposed to talk about that after class," Slughorn murmured to himself. He grinned kindly at her. "When do you suppose you have time?" He peered at her closely. "Of course ... if you have too much homework, I do understand. This can be easily settled and it would remain a little secret between the three of us. I'm sure Tom wouldn't tell the Headmaster if we just sort of ... let the matter slide."

Oh, she was sure Tom would have a field day if she took up on that offer. The sheer thought of how delighted he would be to have something else to hold over her head disgusted her, so she immediately shook her head.

"That's very kind of you, Professor ... but I think I can handle the detentions," Hermione said.

"Wonderful!" exclaimed Slughorn, clapping his hands together. He then looked at the two of them, the grin growing bigger and bigger. "It's such a pleasure to have the two of you in my class. So responsible, kind, talented ... I'm sure both of you will be very successful out in the world ... Now, I expect invitations to your wedding. I'm sure you wouldn't mind if I brought some of my friends over? It can't be small wedding, not like Gareth's cousin, Sagramore—talented young man, but he never quite knew how to use that intelligence of his—"

The color of Hermione's face had already reached the darkest shade of red it could turn, and she tried to cut into Slughorn's words to correct him, but he continued speaking.

"Have you thought about what careers you might want to pursue? Well, of course you have, since you're already in your seventh year. Tom, you did express interest in teaching, but I do think you would do so well in the Ministry—"

Hermione rolled her eyes and sighed exasperatedly, which was unnoticed by Slughorn but not Tom. Sarcasm was well-hidden behind that seemingly polite smile on Tom's face. Yet, Hermione knew that he was becoming bored and annoyed with Slughorn's ramblings, if the hardness that was now present in his eyes was anything to go by.

"Dear Merlin, and when the two of you have children—"

Hermione sputtered when she heard  ** _that_** , and Tom appeared every bit as unsettled as she was. She was sure that he was just short of pulling out his wand and killing Slughorn. With each word that tumbled out of Slughorn's mouth, Tom's gaze only became more murderous and his smile more forced.

"—How many children do you reckon you'd want? With the intelligence of the two of you, your children must be—"

By this point, Hermione almost wished that Tom would pull out his yew wand and direct that infamous flash of green light at the babbling professor. Slughorn was officially redefining the meaning of being annoying.

"But of course, I'm getting ahead of myself," Slughorn finally said, readjusting the dreamy look on his face. "So, Hermione, whenever you can drop by to serve your detention—" He gave her another annoying wink. "—just let me know, and I am sure Tom will be more than happy to oversee it."

"Thank you, professor," murmured Hermione, suddenly wanting to get out of the classroom as soon as possible.

After bidding Slughorn good-bye, she quickly made her way out with Tom right behind her. Once they were in the hallway, he pulled her into his arms.

Lowering his head towards her ear, he whispered, "Do think over my proposal, Hermione, and I suggest giving me an answer before the fourteenth."

"Why the fourteenth?" she asked.

But Tom did not answer her. With an annoying smirk plastered on his face, he walked back into the Potions classroom, ignoring the confusion on her face.

~-0-~

The next morning went by relatively peacefully, since Harry, Draco, and Ginny attributed her abrupt leave last night to the library. After all, it was not uncommon for Hermione to suddenly think of something she needed to do that had something to do with "research" or "books." Nonetheless, the moment of blissful quietness did not make Hermione any happier because she still had Muggle Studies with Tom to "look forward to."

Surprisingly, the chat before class started was what slightly perked up her mood.

She raised her eyebrows at him when he turned around in his seat and stared at her, amusement written all over his face.

"There's ... something strange that I must ask you about," said Tom.

"Something that even the great Tom Marvolo Riddle can't answer?" she asked somewhat mockingly.

The smile on his face deepened. "Care to ...  ** _enlighten_**  me in regards to why Iris Parkinson can't stand to place her hands on me any longer?"

His question first took her by surprise, and then, her lips curled into a Cheshire-like grin while her eyes glinted way too merrily at his question. "She can't place her hands on you? Now, how am I supposed to know why that happened? It could be anything ... Perhaps you're losing your charm and she just doesn't find you as attractive any longer."

He chuckled softly. "'Losing my charm,' as you've so creatively placed it, would not cause her hands to break out with blisters every single time she tried to touch me, Granger."

"Oh ... is she getting blisters on her hands? I do hope she's doing alright," she said airily as her grin uncontrollably widened.

"She's doing rather abysmally. She's been in a foul mood ever since last night when it first broke out," replied Tom cheerfully, laughter never completely leaving his voice. "Of course, with each attempt, her temper only continued to grow to unbearable heights."

Hermione raised her eyebrows at him, wondering just how many times the woman tried to touch him. Well, that problem was permanently solved.

Brushing a single finger down her cheek, he said, "You're looking far too happy to be pronounced innocent, Granger."

"Are you accusing me of having something to do with whatever happening to Iris?" asked Hermione.

He did not answer, though the amusement in his eyes increased.

"It was a rather ... creative curse, Granger," he murmured. "It does make me wonder how many Dark Arts books the 'culprit' read before coming up with something like that."

She probably should be worried about the fact that she had just received a compliment from the future Dark Lord about a curse she created, but instead she was rejoicing in the notion that it **_worked_**. Well, it was the cow's fault, since she should not had been touching people without their permission in the first place anyway. Besides, Hermione was being "kind" to her. If the poor girl saw how Tom looked like in the future, she would be running the other way, screaming like a banshee. No, Hermione was doing a very good deed, indeed.

"Have you come to a conclusion?" he suddenly asked, changing the topic altogether.

"Huh?" she responded, blinking once before it sank into her mind what he was talking about. "Oh ..." She gnawed on the inside of her cheek before slowly opening her mouth, "What exactly do you want? You haven't been very clear about it ..."

He raised an eyebrow at her. "It was perfectly clear to you last night."

"I was assuming that you just wanted answers to your questions, but then you've never indicated exactly what questions you were going to ask," she replied.

"That," he answered, "depends on how much you know."

"Well, it was the first time it happened to me—"

"That much is obvious," interrupted Tom. "The wand belongs to Mr. Evans, so naturally, he's the one who knows about it, and I doubt he wouldn't tell you everything he knows about this." Propping his head up with one hand, he glanced at her from the corner of his eye. "As I've said, you have until the fourteenth to give me an answer or else we will have to wait another month before you can go to Germany."

Knowing that she was running out of time with only five days until the fourteenth, she decided to discuss the issue with Harry and the others after lunch.

Thankfully, most of the other students were outside, enjoying the new blanket of snow that had fallen over the school grounds overnight. Augusta, who had been sitting in the Gryffindor common room, immediately walked out when she saw Hermione.

"I'm amazed at how popular you are, Hermione," commented Draco, causing Harry and Ginny to snort.

After they sat down in the armchairs near the fireplace, Hermione proceeded to tell them about Tom knowing a way to travel internationally.

"How did he know we were going to Germany?" asked Harry.

"He saw us at the library that day, and I had to tell him something," Hermione explained. "I couldn't tell him about time traveling, so I told him that we were looking for a way to travel to Germany to help Professor Dumbledore instead."

"He's going to try to get something out of it," Harry immediately said.

"Well, that much is obvious, Potty. The more important question is  ** _what_**  he wants out of this. I can't imagine the Dark Lord trying to help the old coot," said Draco.

"He wants information about the wand ... and possibly about where we're from. He didn't exactly specify," Hermione admitted.

"Which, he hopes, would give him unlimited access to everything we know," Harry concluded, his eyes flashing. "In his dreams."

"But he's also the only person who knows how to travel internationally ... illegally right now," Ginny reminded them. "Hermione and I have looked through all the books, and true to his words, the only ways indicated in the books are the Floo networks and Apparition."

"But that doesn't mean—" Harry stopped abruptly in his words. "Hang on. When did Riddle say anything about Floo networks and Apparition? And why do  ** _you_**  know about it, Ginny? When did the two of you talked about it?"

"We talked about in the infirmary while we were looking over the books, while you, Draco, and Alphard were practicing Quidditch," Hermione replied. "Tom told me about it that night when he caught us near the library."

"But we don't know if he's lying or not," Draco stated. "He could be lying to us, and we wouldn't know."

"Hermione can always tell him that we won't tell him anything before he brings us there," Ginny said.

"I doubt it will work. He's not going to believe that we'll keep to our end of the deal," said Harry, shaking his head.

"As if he has more credibility than we do," Ginny remarked, shaking her head.

"I'm not the one judging," Harry replied, holding his hands up in defeat.

"What if we make him do the Unbreakable Vow? Then he would have to keep to his end of the deal," Draco suggested.

"Wait," Hermione cut in, holding up her hand to signal for them to stop for a second. "Are we really sure we want to let him ask the questions he wants? He can very well change the future because of that."

Though last night she had thought about disregarding the changes they might make to the timeline, the broad daylight brought some senses back to her mind. The concept of changing the future frightened her, and deep down inside, she needed some reassurance that what she was doing was right, that she was not making the wrong choice.

"If we let Dumbledore remain missing and possibly die because of this, we will still change the future, Hermione," Harry pointed out. "If we word things carefully, we probably wouldn't have to reveal so many things about the future."

"Right, Harry. What if he asks about the wands? What are you going to tell him?" Hermione challenged, crossing her arms over her chest.

Harry scratched the back of his head nervously. "Well ..."

"Well?" Hermione pushed on.

"I suppose I can tell him that it was because both of our wands have phoenix feathers," he answered slowly.

"And how are you going to explain how in the world you know the core of his wand is a phoenix feather?" Hermione asked. "Not to mention the fact that plenty of wands have phoenix feathers as their cores. Why did it happen specifically with your wand?"

Harry's face then visibly brightened when he thought about something. "Well, Malloy here knows Occlumency, doesn't he? He could be the one talking. We could tell him that it happened to me before, but we have no idea why it happened."

"Me?" Draco said in a higher voice than usual. "I'm staying at least ten feet away from him, Evans. What if he thinks it's a good idea to curse me again because I might be Hermione's boyfriend?"

"He does seem a bit overly obsessed about that ..." Harry remarked, his voice trailing off as he glanced uneasily at Hermione.

Feeling her cheeks warming at their words, Hermione immediately steered the conversation back on topic, "He's going to find it strange if Draco's the one doing the talking, Harry. I doubt he's going to buy it. He knows Draco knows close to nothing about the wands, or at least, he thinks. He knows you're the one with the most information. He's going to want to know about it from you ... or me."

"Don't we have to find a way to make sure he's going to keep to his end of the deal first? What if we answer the question and he backs out on us?" Ginny brought up again.

"I doubt he's going to agree to the Unbreakable Vow," said Harry, shaking his head.

"I doubt it, too," Hermione agreed. She bit her lower lip, trying to find a solution to their problem.

"Why can't Potty learn Occlumency and we can get it over and done with?" Draco asked, slightly annoyed.

"He does sort of know it already," Hermione replied and then, she turned towards Harry. "But Harry, you would have to control your emotions when you're blocking him out of your mind."

"I'd only blocked him out last time because he was in a different country, Hermione," Harry replied, shaking his head.

"You blocked him out during the final battle, and he wasn't out of country then," she pointed out. "You just let things slip when you let your temper run wild. Besides, your minds are no longer linked now, so I think it might work, and I think you can block him out of your mind."

"But ... but what if ... what if it doesn't work that way? What if I've only blocked him out last time because he can't bear to be in my mind last time? What if I can't block him out this time?" Harry asked.

"Then Hermione can knee him while we're running the other way?" Draco offered.

Hermione glared at him while the corner of Harry's lips twitched in suppressed laughter. "Can we get serious here? And Draco, that joke's getting old."

"Not really," Harry muttered under his breath.

"Well, if he really does know everything, he'll just try to kill you again," Draco said, nodding his head towards Harry. In a higher and squeakier voice, he added, "'I have to be the one to kill Harry Potter. Leave him to me.' Yes, leave it to him to get killed by a rebounded curse."

Harry and Ginny burst out of laughter at his performance and words. Therefore, the three of them did not notice the irritated expression on Hermione's face.

"You would've  ** _thought_**  that for someone who's supposedly the darkest wizard in history and one of the most intelligent people to walk through Hogwarts, he would've realized that if the first time didn't work, the second time wouldn't. But no, he had to try three times, all of which failed. 'Greatest sorcerer in the world' indeed," Draco mocked, rolling his eyes.

Much to Hermione's annoyance, Harry and Ginny continued laughing uncontrollably with Draco soon joining them. She should not be bothered by what they were saying, since it was ... well, true, but somehow, it just irked her to no ends.

"We still haven't come up with a way to prevent him from backing out on us," she reminded them loudly over their laughter.

Gradually, they calmed down, and Ginny asked, "Did you think of a way, Hermione?"

Harry wiped away a tear that had fallen down his cheek from laughing, and Draco was still attempting to hold back the small chuckles.

Ignoring the two boys, Hermione took a deep breath and proposed, "I was thinking ... perhaps we can set milestones for him: Two questions before we leave and two questions after we come back."

Ginny laughed humorlessly. "Will he be satisfied with  ** _just_**  four questions?"

"No," Harry and Draco answered in unison.

"Well, we'll give him the choice then. It's either just four questions or none at all," Hermione said, sighing heavily and rubbing the bridge of her nose. "Four is plenty of information already, so ..."

"As if Voldemort knows when to stop," Harry scoffed. "He wouldn't be Lord Voldemort if he knows when to stop."

"Will the three of you stop saying his name already?" Draco asked, wincing.

"What? Afraid that Lord Voldemort will Cruciate you when we go back to the future?" Ginny teased.

"Back to the  ** _future_**? Tell me I heard her wrong, Joseph," a fifth voice suddenly spoke up.

With a start, the four of them stood up from their seats and turned towards the portrait hole.

~-0-~

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **A/N** : Many thanks to my betas, catcachoo (from PI) and Nerys! 


	37. Chapter 37

**Chapter 37**

Joseph and Gareth stared at them, half in suspicion and half in shock. Upon seeing their gazes, Hermione, Harry, and Ginny shifted uncomfortably in their seats. Though they were not particularly disturbed that they were overheard since these were people they somewhat trusted, this was certainly not the way they had imagined it would happen.

Draco, on the other hand, turned pale. "Why didn't you cast that ... that whatever spell around us?" he hissed at the three Gryffindors.

"I thought everyone was outside, playing with the snow, and won't be returning so early ... and I hadn't foreseen that we would've gotten into an extensive chat about this matter. I thought we were simply going to discuss about the deal with Tom," Hermione hissed back, twisting her fingers together. "Besides, why didn't  ** _you_**  ward the room?"

" ** _Me_**? It's not my common room, Granger," Draco countered.

"So now it's entirely our responsibility now? Get real, Malloy," Ginny huffed, rolling her eyes at him.

And then, they all fell silent again, the unsolved problem in front of them making them uncomfortable. If it were possible, Hermione did not want to tell Joseph and Gareth too much about what happened because it would undoubtedly complicate things. They really did not need Tom trying to corner them again, too.

"What happened?" another voice spoke up behind Joseph and Gareth, and Alphard walked into view. Apparently, Joseph and Gareth had not bothered to close the door behind them. "What about the future? Are they in here? Oh, hello. Do you want to join us in the snowball fight outside? The other Houses are—"

"Just a second, Black," Gareth interrupted him, not taking his eyes off the four time travelers. "The four of you  ** _were_**  joking, right? You were just trying to trick us."

Hermione nibbled on her lower lip. She did not want to be the one making the decision. Even if they did pretend that they were joking around with them, she doubted they were going to let things go. From the looks on Joseph and Gareth's faces, they were already making connections between the stranger things they had done with the idea of them traveling back in time from the future.

"Joking about what?" Alphard asked.

"Look ... just forget about this, alright? Pretend you've never heard us saying anything at all," Draco pleaded.

"What's going on?" Alphard demanded, clearly not about to give up because of Draco's words.

"They were saying something about going back to the future," Joseph replied, still not taking his eyes off the four of them. "And something about ... Lord Volmort ... or something. I've never heard of that name before ..."

Alphard's expression froze, and he gazed at the four of them in alarm. Suspicion built in his eyes with each passing second. "Lord Voldemort?"

"Yes, something like that ... how did you know?" Joseph asked with a frown.

Very slowly, Alphard spoke, "I've heard Cygnus mention that name before. Accidentally, of course, since it seemed like some kind of ...  ** _secret_**  among the Slytherins closer to Riddle. Cygnus wouldn't tell me who he was referring to, but it’s pretty obvious who it is." His gaze on the time travelers hardened. "The four of you ... you're not ... are you ..."

"We're  ** _not_**  his followers, if that's what you're thinking," Harry said angrily, taking a step forward. "And we never will be! We're—"

"Harry!" Hermione screeched, successfully stopping him from continuing.

"Followers?" asked Joseph in disbelief. "Riddle is gathering followers? What is he trying to do? Become the next  ** _Grindelwald_**  or something?"

Hermione, Ginny, and Draco shared a look—Joseph had no idea that that was precisely what Tom planned to do.

"I wouldn't be the least bit surprised," Alphard scoffed. "Him and his perfect charade ... innocent, kind orphan disguise ... I'd always known that he had some kind of hidden agenda going on."

"Now that's unfair, Black. Some people ... are just naturally nice," Gareth opposed, frowning. "Just because you've had some misconceptions about him doesn't necessarily mean that he's going to try and become a Dark Lord."

"Weasley, just because he helped you before doesn't mean he's a nice bloke either," Alphard retorted.

"Sorry, Gareth. I'm with Black on this," Joseph piped up. "Even Dumbledore doesn't trust him. I've told you this many times already."

"I know that," replied Gareth as he scratched the wool jumper over his left arm, "and I do admire Dumbledore and trust his judgement most of the time. But all the other professors adore Tom. Isn't it possible ... isn't it possible for Dumbledore to be wrong every once in a while?"

Uncertainty tinged his words, and Gareth glanced at Harry, Hermione, Ginny, and Draco a couple of times, as if he were seeking for an answer from them. The four of them, however, chose to remain silent. For once, each of them was waiting for the other to take charge and make a decision. None of them wanted to be the one taking the blame if anything went wrong in the end.

"Look, it was just ... a bad thought out joke. Just ... forget about it," Draco spoke up, running his hand through his hair out of nervousness.

However, that turned out to be the precise thing that opened the floodgate of questions.

"How did you find out the name Voldemort? If it was supposed to be a secret—"

"He didn't really turn into a Dark Lord, did he? Why would Dumbledore allow—"

"You've obviously attended Hogwarts before. That's why you don't knock into walls when you're going through the hallways. How did you—"

With a start, Hermione rushed over to the portrait hole and checked, making sure there was no one standing nearby. Shutting the entrance behind her, she ushered the three young men to where they were sitting before pulling out her wand and casting the  _Muffliato_  around them. The same mistake did not need to be repeated twice.

"You can't just go off shouting about it," Hermione chided them, slightly furious about how things were turning out.

She could not begin to imagine what would have happened if it were someone else who had overheard them. Thankfully, they were not in the Slytherin common room, so she did not have to worry about the information reaching Tom's ears. All in all, they should have been and would have to be more careful when it was just the four of them, now that the rest of the school was back. The topic of time travel managed to slip its way back into conversation much too frequently.

"Sorry," Joseph, Gareth, and Alphard immediately apologized upon seeing the scary look on Hermione's face.

Heaving a sigh, Hermione closed her eyes and rubbed the bridge of her nose, contemplating what she should tell them. How much could she tell them? She still felt ... awkward about changing the future. For a moment, she felt tired. It was almost like the entire balance of the future rested on the shoulders of the four of them. Perhaps she should take Draco's advice and stop worrying so much. But again, it led back to the possibility of Lord Voldemort winning the final battle …

"Is she ... alright?" asked Gareth carefully. "We meant it. We really are sorry for shouting about it right next to the portrait hole."

"It's not your fault," Hermione replied, sighing. She gazed into his sky blue eyes and gave him a weak smile. "I'm just trying to figure out how much we can tell you without ... without changing things that were supposed to happen and without the three of you thinking we're mental."

"Well ... I guess it makes sense," answered Joseph slowly. "The four of you don't speak with an accent ... although I've known some people from my childhood who'd chosen to go to Durmstrang instead of Hogwarts. But the four of you are so ... familiar with Hogwarts. We've seen the four of you duck away from Peeves and going through tapestries without second thoughts. At first, we didn't think too much about it, since Riddle memorized all the hallways and corridors within the first week of school, but when we heard you mentioning about going back to the future, it suddenly ... everything suddenly clicked into place."

"Not to mention they are not in Slytherin House, but they still know the name Riddle's using in secret," Alphard pointed out. He frowned. "But how is it possible? I thought time traveling was strictly regulated by the Ministry."

"We didn't do it on purpose," Harry quickly said. "We were sent back by someone else ... though we have no idea who did it."

"But why can't you go back?" Joseph asked.

"We don't know what method was used to send us back here," answered Hermione. "The only form of time traveling that is allowed by the Ministry with regulations is the Time Turner. Each turn only brings us backwards by an hour, not to mention there are limitations to Time Turners—"

"Which means Time Turners are out of the question," Draco cut in loudly, realizing Hermione was going to start giving them a thorough walk through about the limitations of Time Turners. "So we're stuck here until Dumbledore comes back."

"You're returning to the future after Dumbledore returns?" Alphard asked in surprise.

"Well ... we hope so," Hermione replied slowly. "That's only if Dumbledore comes up with a solution to how to send us forward in time. If not ..."

For a moment, they remained silent, while Alphard, Gareth, and Joseph digested the information that was given to them.

"So it's true? Tom ... he'll become a Dark Lord?" Gareth asked in a hushed voice, breaking the silence.

"Yes," Harry answered before Hermione could stop him.

"Harry!" she hissed. "Tom knows Legilimency, remember? If we tell them too much about this, he's bound to find out before next week!"

"Legilimency? What's that?" Joseph asked out of curiosity.

Sighing again, Hermione mentally cursed the gods for allowing this to happen. As if life at Hogwarts in the forties were not complicated enough to begin with.

"Is that even  ** _legal_**?" Joseph demanded in horror after she explained to him what Legilimency was.

"But ... wouldn't he know already? I mean, couldn't he extract the information from your minds during class or in the hallways?" Alphard asked.

"Well, Harry and Draco both kind of know Occlumency, which can block out Legilimency attacks," Hermione explained, scratching the back of her head. "Ginny's not in our year, so there's no worries there unless he decides to corner her in the hallways."

"What about you then?" Alphard pressed on, concerned. "You're in nearly every single class with him."

"I try to avoid looking at him in the eyes. You need eye contact ... most of the time for Legilimency to work," Hermione said.

"Isn't that a bit risky though?" asked Joseph disapprovingly. "Why don't you just learn Occlumency, too?"

"You need a Legilimens to help when you're learning Occlumency," answered Hermione, not feeling very inclined to tell them that she did try before and progress was not as satisfactory as she would like it to be.

"Did the wand thing happen to you before, Harry? It is your wand, isn't it?" inquired Gareth, eying Harry curiously.

The latter looked at Hermione, seeking permission from her first. Nibbling her lower lip, Hermione nodded hesitantly.

"It's Harry's wand ... but we really can't tell you more about it, or else it's undoubtedly going to change too many things in the future." She paused before continuing to speak, "The three of you best watch out how you react around Tom the next time you see him. He's ... too perceptive to let small gestures pass, and we don't want him to target the three of you for information next."

"I ... I'll try," Gareth answered, his freckles still rather prominent against that sickly color on his face, while the other two nodded.

"Hold on," Alphard suddenly spoke up, gazing at Hermione. "If you ... well, knew so many things about Riddle and what he would become in the future, why did you disappear with him during Slughorn's party?"

Harry's jaw dropped open, and he flew up on his feet. "You  ** _disappeared_**  with Riddle?"

Hermione cringed slightly out of guilt when she recalled what, exactly, happened that night. "Well ... ye—"

"What did he do? Did he hurt you? He didn't Cruciate you again, did he?" Harry asked frantically, worry etched on every feature of his face.

" ** _Cruciate her_**? Again? You're kidding, aren't you, Harry?" Joseph demanded, appalled. "He's using the Unforgivables on fellow students? Already? This is getting out of hand then. Why didn't you tell the professors?"

"Now you've done it," Hermione muttered at Harry. In a louder voice, she addressed the three young men, "Our whole point here ... well, I really have no idea, exactly, why we were sent back in time. But we're not supposed to change the future. Tom's supposed to leave school and become the Dark Lord. If we tell on him ... according to the history we know, that's not supposed to happen."

An uneasy silence fell over the group, and the frown just would not disappear from Joseph's face. Apparently, he found that information overly disturbing.

"Look, don't worry about it. It's not like I don't know how to protect myself if he wanted to curse me," Hermione tried to console them.

"Yeah, Hermione knows how to knee him really, really well," Draco added, snickering.

"Draco!" Hermione sighed out of exasperation. It seemed like he would  ** _never_**  let this topic slide.

"Knee him?" questioned Joseph, blinking his eyes in confusion.

Draco squiggled his eyebrow at him, and a look of realization dawned on Joseph, Gareth, and Alphard's face. Then, the tense atmosphere broke down as everyone, except Hermione (who scowled), broke down in laughter.

"I would've given you ten thousand Galleons to see that," Joseph said as he gasped for breath.

"Count me in," Draco spoke up, wiping away a single tear from the corner of his eyes. "If you ever decide to do that again, we demand to be told ahead of time, Granger."

Hermione rolled her eyes and shook her head.

When the laughter finally died down, Joseph turned towards Harry and said, "So ... you must be a Potter."

Before Hermione could signal for Harry to not say anything, he smiled and nodded.

"And you're definitely a Weasley!" Gareth exclaimed, pointing at Ginny, who beamed at him.

"We're not supposed to be giving this information out!" Hermione whispered rapidly at her fellow time travelers, but she was, unfortunately, ignored by the overexcited and curious ancestors of her friends.

"You can't possibly be a Malfoy. Since when did Malfoys get along with Potters?" Alphard said, surveying Draco.

"I never said I was getting along with Scarhead here," Draco sighed, rolling his eyes. "It's called temporary alliance."

"But isn't Abraxas Malfoy a close friend of Tom?" Gareth asked, looking at Draco curiously.

"As if he really thinks of any of them as his friends," Harry scoffed.

"Harry!" Hermione hissed. If he weren't sitting so far away, she would have stomped on his foot already to stop him from giving out what might be time-changing information.

"And that doesn't stop poor ferret boy here from getting Cruciated by their Lord," replied Ginny mockingly.

Hermione threw up her hands in the air in defeat before burying her face in them. If she went back to a changed future, she was so going to throttle every single one of them for not listening to her.

"Ferret boy?" Joseph inquired, his eyes widening in amusement.

Before Draco could stop them, Harry and Ginny launched into a full explanation of where the nickname came from, causing Alphard, Gareth, and Joseph to laugh heartily. They chatted for a while longer, and Hermione had to keep stepping in to stop the conversation (at times, unsuccessfully) when she felt that too much information was getting divulged. Near the end, she felt that another warning was in order, since it seemed like Joseph, Gareth, and Alphard were having a bit too much fun with this whole situation.

"I can't mention this enough times, but honestly ... don't tell anyone about this. We ... probably already changed bits and pieces of the future already, but we don't want to do it more than necessary. And if Tom gets this information ..." she trailed off, worry etched on her face.

"Don't worry, Hermione," Joseph reassured her. "We hardly have any contact with him anyway." He then grinned and elbowed Gareth. "Although you just officially killed Riddle's image in poor Gareth's heart."

Gareth turned red. "I just thought he was a nice bloke. Merlin knew he was going to turn out ... to be something like that ..."

"Nobody could have known unless they traveled back from the future," Joseph remarked, winking at the four time travelers. "But the way you were ranting and raving about Riddle, Gareth, if I hadn't known that you fancied Delphine, I would've thought that you liked him."

"That's it, Potter! You've gone too far!" Gareth yelled in mock anger, jumping to his feet and brandishing two pillows in his hands. "Get up and fight, you scoundrel!"

"Is that a challenge, Weasley? Well, I'm going to give you a good kicking like you've never known before!" Joseph jeered, grabbing two pillows and waving them at Gareth like wings.

A look was exchanged between the two of them, and before Hermione knew what they were going to do, pillows were pelted through the air, successfully hitting Draco, Harry, Ginny, and her in the face. Yells erupted in the common room, and if someone were to enter at that moment, they would have thought that war had broken out.

"That's what you get for ruining our epic snowball fight, villains!" Gareth's voice could be heard over the ruckus that was going on while Harry, Draco, Ginny, and Hermione grabbed pillows and scrambled behind sofas and armchairs.

Soon, a full blown pillow fight broke out with Alphard joining Joseph and Gareth's team. It went on until it was nearly time for Hermione to go to her Ancient Runes class, and for once, Hermione regretted the fact that the fun had to be cut short.

As she walked to the classroom, even though she knew she had to face Tom and tell him their decision, she could not wipe the grin from her face.

~-0-~

After informing Tom that they had come to a conclusion and would like to talk to him about it, the only thing Hermione could do was wait.

"Are you sure Evans can do this without proper Occlumency training? We're all doomed if  ** _he_**  finds out we're attempting to lie to him," Draco whispered as they walked through the hallways.

"It's the only choice we have," Hermione replied, trying to push away the nervousness growing in her.

Tom and she had arranged to meet after dinner by the lake, which gave them around three to four hours, including dinnertime, to get ready. As she walked to the Room of Requirement, she wondered why she had not asked for more time. At least, Harry would then have more time to practice on what he was going to say. Who knew if Tom were going to launch immediately into a questioning session? Another problem was they had not spent enough time speculating what questions Tom might ask. What if he asked a question and they had not thought of a non-time-changing answer for it?

Harry and Ginny appeared to be every bit as nervous as Hermione and Draco were. None of them knew if they could trick Tom, and the thought of getting caught lying kept haunting them thoroughly, disturbing their practice session to the point that Draco was already mumbling about getting buried in the Forbidden Forest. A couple of times, Harry ended up tongue-tied while he was reciting the answers to possible questions, which caused him to start pacing around the room out of frustration.

"We're going to succeed in this. I know you can do this, Harry," Hermione reassured him as well as herself.

"He'd better," Draco muttered on the side.

When it was ten past seven, they left the safe confinements of the Room of Hidden Things and headed down to the lake. Tom was nowhere in sight, but of course, they were early by nearly ten minutes. Anxiety settled in, and none of them thought to talk while the silence grated on their nerves.

Finally, at seven twenty-five, they saw a solitary figure briskly walk through the door leading to Hogwarts and stroll towards them. Hermione swallowed, and Harry's body visibly tensed. Ginny and Draco's faces both turned pale at the sight of the Dark Lord, and Hermione could hardly blame them.

"You're early," commented Tom when he stopped right in front of them, his presence even more foreboding than usual under the ghostly shine of the moonlight.

"We've made up our decision," Harry spoke up, cutting to the chase.

"Oh?" answered Tom, crossing his arms over his chest. "And?"

"Although we're grateful that you're providing us with a way to go to Germany, if we allow you to ask unlimited questions, it would be unfair to us," Harry said, his voice firm.

Raising an eyebrow, Tom inclined his head. "Go on."

"So we've discussed about it and felt that ... we'll answer a total of four questions for the spell to travel to Germany: Two before we go to Germany, and two when we return," Harry finished.

He stopped and looked at Tom, waiting for an answer. The latter did not answer immediately. He simply stared at each of them in turn, his dark eyes indecipherable.

"Interesting how you've discussed it and felt that everything was fair." Tom's soft voice was loud against the silence of the night. His face betrayed no emotions, and he gazed steadily at Harry while he spoke. "It is obvious that your concept of 'fair' is only limited to when things are in favor of you and you only."

"Four questions is already bordering on dangerous for us. If we allow anymore, we might as well tell you everything you want to know," replied Harry.

"Is that so?" Tom asked. A smile so faint it was nearly invisible appeared on his face. "Did you expect thanks for it then, Evans? As far as I'm concerned, you may very well go back on your words and never answer the last two questions."

"We're not Slyth—" Harry stopped in his words when he noticed that he was nearly including Draco.

Tom noticed where he was looking at and chuckled.

"Mr. Malloy may very well be Sorted into Gryffindor if re-Sorting was allowed," he said, his voice sarcastic. His expression turned collected again, and he proposed, "Three questions before you leave for Germany, and three when you return."

"That's far too many," Hermione spoke up immediately.

Tom's eyes slid over to her, his face still not showing any emotions. "You know that I won't settle for four questions only, Hermione."

Harry gritted his teeth and looked at Hermione, who was nibbling the inside of her cheeks. They had guessed that he would try to bargain the number of questions he got to ask. Now they were slightly regretting the fact that they had not started at a lower number. Though if they did, Tom would have probably turned on his heels and left.

"A total of five questions then," Harry said. "Two before we leave and three after we return."

"Three before you leave and two after you return," bargained Tom.

Hermione and Harry shared a look, and they knew that they would have to agree with it. Hoping they were making the right choice, Hermione watched as Harry nodded, sealing the deal.

"Fine," Harry conceded.

Tom's lips curved upwards, satisfaction settling over his previously impassive features.

"Very well then. I will prepare the spell for ... your trip to Germany." His smile took on an amused air, though they had no idea what he found funny. "We shall meet again three in the morning inside the Forbidden Forest on the fourteenth, and I will ask you my first three questions before ... sending you off to Germany."

~-0-~

Hermione had no idea if it were because they had an impending "trip" coming up or the fates were just being mean to her. Nonetheless, the next couple of days had been nothing short of annoying.

In addition to having to put up with Draco (who kept going on about how they were going to get chopped up into little pieces and fed to the werewolves living in the Forbidden Forest), Harry continued fretting about how Hermione kept her disappearance from Slughorn's party with Tom a secret, and although he never voiced it out loud, Hermione had a feeling that he was becoming increasingly suspicious about the relationship between Tom and her. It made her uncomfortable, and she tried to stay as far as she could away from Tom. However, that was made difficult by the fact that Tom made it a point to annoy Harry by being intimately close to her in every single class they had together.

On Thursday, the morning was disturbed as usual by the owls flying in to deliver mail, and soon, everyone was either reading through their morning papers and letters or eating their breakfast while chitchatting. A loud sob suddenly echoed throughout the Great Hall, catching everyone's attention. Hermione turned around just in time to see Iris Parkinson covering her face, wailing and running out the door. Her younger sister, Melantha, quickly followed after her, all the while calling her name.

However, it was not Iris's reaction that surprised Hermione. Melantha had been known to be extremely protective of her older sister to the point of trying to curse Hermione while Iris was staying at St. Mungo's. She now had the strangest expression on her face—a mixture between glee and worry.

"What happened to her?" Hermione asked, raising her eyebrows.

"Who knows?" replied Ginny with a shrug. "Probably got rejected by Riddle or something."

Nonetheless, Hermione's question was soon answered right before Charms class began.

"Well, I heard it from Abraxas, who heard it from Augustus, who heard it from—"

"Just tell us what happened, Draco," Hermione interrupted him while Harry, Ginny, Joseph, and Gareth stared at him with utmost attention.

Shooting her an annoyed look for interrupting him, Draco began to talk, "She got a letter from her parents this morning. They—her parents, that is—never quite liked her as much as her younger sister, Melantha."

"How did you know that?" asked Joseph.

"It's no secret among us Slytherins. Besides, Iris doesn't keep it a secret either. Though Melantha's always rather nice to Iris—much nicer than how Iris is to her; I suppose that's why she got Sorted into Ravenclaw rather than Slytherin—Iris tends to mock Melantha behind her back," Draco replied.

"Backstabbing Slytherin," Joseph muttered, earning a dirty look from Draco.

"Watch it there, Potter," drawled Draco, his eyes still narrowed. "Iris tries to prove to her parents that she's better than Melantha, but from the looks of it, they don't really care. This morning, the letter from their dear parents demanded Iris to help Melantha."

"Help Melantha? Why would that make Iris cry?" Hermione asked, confused.

"You're going to love this, Granger," Draco said, smirking. "The Parkinsons want Iris to help Melantha persuade Riddle to marry her."

Hermione's jaws dropped open while Joseph and Gareth started snickering to themselves.

"No wonder Iris started crying," said Joseph, amusement making his voice slightly unsteady.

"I'm surprised she didn't go jump in the lake yet," Gareth added.

However, Hermione remained silent as her mouth slowly closed and her eyes turned contemplative.

"Melantha doesn't seem too opposed to that idea," Joseph pointed out, remembering that look on Melantha's face back in the Great Hall.

"Of course not," said Draco, rolling his eyes. "Ask any girl—" He looked pointedly at Hermione. "—if they would mind getting married to Riddle."

Harry followed Draco's line of sight and glanced at Hermione with a small frown on his forehead. However, she was hardly paying attention to their conversation, let alone see the gazes with which Draco and Harry looked at her with.

Shifting slightly in his seat, Harry heaved a sigh before chuckling. "Wait till they see what he looks like in the future."

The conversation was force to come to a halt with the entrance of the professor and Tom, though that hardly stopped Hermione from thinking.

It appeared that she had something to ... attend to before she left for Germany.

~-0-~

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **A/N** : Many thanks to catcachoo (from PI) and Nerys for beta-ing the chapter! 


	38. Chapter 38

**Chapter 38**

The next two days were gone before Hermione knew it, and soon, they found themselves sitting in front of the fireplace in the Gryffindor common room. The boisterous group of students contrasted greatly with them, and for some reason, the cheerful and noisy atmosphere only made them more anxious. As the time to meet Tom slid closer, they started to become even more fidgety.

What if Tom gave them the wrong spell even after they gave him answers to the first three questions? What if he did something to the spell, making them end up in some strange, dangerous zone? They then remembered that Lord Voldemort would not do things that were not beneficial to him. If he gave them the wrong spell, he would never get the other two answers.

The common room always seemed to clear out slower than usual when they needed it to be empty. Therefore, Galahad and another fifth-year boy naturally had to stay up way past midnight playing a game of wizard's chess before they retired to their dorms. Though they still had another three hours before they had to meet Tom in the Forbidden Forest, they had to sneak upstairs to the Room of Requirement first, since Draco was waiting for them there.

After making sure that there was no one else in the common room, Harry took out his invisibility cloak and pulled it over Ginny, Hermione, and himself. The hallways were mostly empty, except for the people who were patrolling. When they were near the Room of Requirement, they nearly cursed out loud when they saw Hogan the caretaker tidying the portraits hanging there; they were worried that Draco might get impatient waiting for them and come out of the room. Thankfully, that did not happen, and after waiting for nearly an hour, Hogan finally hobbled away.

"Took the three of you long enough," Draco muttered when they entered the room.

Although he tried to look calm, it was obvious from his mussed up hair and slightly frantic gaze that he was just as worried as the three Gryffindors.

"We could leave you up here and let you head over to the Forbidden Forest on your own without my invisibility cloak," Harry snapped.

"Stop," Hermione ordered before Draco could open his mouth and counter what Harry said. "We're all worried now, and the two of you are not going to take it out on one another. We still have two hours to go. You, Harry, should practice on what you're going to say, and the rest of us should be thinking of what other questions Tom might ask before we get sent to Germany."

Slumping down into one of the couches, Harry ran his hands through his hair while Draco paced in front of the fireplace. Ginny sat down beside Harry and placed a hand on his shoulder, silently supporting him.

After another, in Hermione's opinion, pointless practice session (since the questions asked and answered were nearly the same ones from their previous practices), it was finally time for them to make their way down towards the Forbidden Forest. There were less patrolling prefects and professors at this hour of the night, which they were grateful about. They slowly crossed over Hogwarts ground, Hermione taking care to cover their tracks in the snow with a well-placed spell. Once they reached the edge of the Forbidden Forest, Harry pulled off the invisibility cloak, and they each pulled out their wands.

"How do we know where to look for him?" asked Draco. "The forest is huge. He could be anywhere."

"Perhaps we should stay on the trail," Ginny suggested.

Hermione shook her head. "I doubt he's going to do that. It would be far too easy for someone like Professor Ferns to catch him while she's looking for some plant or other samples in the forest."

"But didn't they say that it's dangerous to go off the trail?" Draco pointed out, his face paler than normal. The lack of proper lighting made it hard to see, but Hermione was pretty sure she saw his body shiver slightly against the night air, and it was certainly not from the cold.

"We're going into the forest, Malloy. How safe did you reckon it would be?" asked Harry.

"Why did we promise him to meet in the Forbidden Forest?" Draco whimpered. "Couldn't we've just met in Hogsmeade or something?"

"It's hidden from prying eyes," answered Hermione simply. Muttering a soft " _Lumos_ ," she took a step forward. "Let's go. We only have fifteen minutes left before three."

Though she had attempted to look brave, she could not help the hair from standing up on the back of her neck. The forest seemed quieter than normal; there was not even the occasional hoot one would hear from a lone owl while wandering through the forest at night. As they trekked deeper in (which was made harder by the abundant amount of snow on the ground), the only source of light they could rely on was the tips of their wands. The moonlight was completely hidden by the trees and the snow that piled up on their branches, and the spaces between trees became narrower as they continued inwards.

"Oomph!" Draco grunted when a pile of snow crashed down on him as they climbed over a particularly narrow passage between two trees.

Uncontrollably, Hermione, Harry, and Ginny snickered as the usually immaculate blond became even more disheveled.

"Thanks for helping," Draco muttered sarcastically. He pulled out his arm and wand from the snow with some difficulty and cast a spell on the surrounding snow, melting it away.

"You're very welcome," replied Hermione just as mockingly. When she turned around, she noticed some light shining through the trees and branches just ahead of them.

Apparently, Harry must have seen the same silvery glow, since he said, "Perhaps that's where he wanted us to meet him? I don't think we've reached the other edge of the forest with just fifteen minutes of walking."

Deciding that the only way they would know was to find out, they gradually trod over the snow, testing each area to make sure there weren't any roots sticking out to trip them. When they finally came into the clearing, they were surprised by what they saw in front of them. Not the fact that Tom was already leaning against a tree and watching them with mild amusement written on his face, but more because of the environment they had walked into.

It seemed as if someone had taken a large circular stamp, placed it right in the middle of the forest, and declared that no trees should be planted there and no snow should fall there. The grass that remained behind was a darker shade of green, obviously because it had been only recently crushed by the heavy weight of snow on top of it. The snow must have been taken care of by Tom, but Hermione had no idea if he were the one who'd gotten rid of the trees, too. Her eyes then got caught by the glass-like spheres that hung on trees surrounding the clearing. The light emitting from them was a silvery white instead of the usual gold of candlelight or fire, almost as if the moonlight that was absent tonight had been trapped inside those spheres.

"Right on time," Tom commented when all four of them made it through the crack between the trees.

When they did not answer, Tom pushed himself away from the tree and sauntered up to the middle of the circle.

"What are the questions?" Harry spoke up.

"Tsk, patience  ** _is_**  a virtue, Evans," Tom said silkily, twirling his wand between his long fingers.

"We know as well as you do what we want from each other. I prefer to get this over and done with," Harry answered.

Tom's lips curved into a faint smile. "Our feelings are mutual, but we do have two hours. If you are ...  ** _cooperative_** , I daresay, the questioning will be over in a matter of minutes, and we will have more than sufficient time to set up the necessary elements needed for international traveling." He paused, looking pointedly at Harry. "With that said, do refrain from interrupting while I'm questioning."

Hermione's eyebrows shot up, confused in regards to his request. Well, she knew that he loved to hear himself talk, but even from him, this was a rather strange request. However, seconds later, she knew why he warned them about interruption.

Slowly, as if on purpose, he walked up to Ginny Weasley, and disregarding the shocked and confused expressions on everyone else's faces, he spoke.

"How do I defeat Evans's wand?"

Ginny stared at him, stunned, and Hermione had the urge to scream out for her to avert her eyes, but it was already too late. A smile—cold, victorious, and pleased—appeared on his face as Harry and Hermione rushed forward towards him. Before they could touch Tom, however, a wand was pointed directly at Harry's chest.

"Step back, both of you," said Tom coldly, never taking his eyes off Ginny. "I won't hesitate cursing Evans if you take another step forward."

"Get away from her, Riddle," Harry fumed, his eyes flashing. "We've promised to answer your questions—"

"And that's exactly what I'm doing. We've never specified  ** _which one of you_**  I could ask for answers from," Tom interrupted Harry's words, his smile broadening. "Now, step back, Evans. We don't have all day."

Hermione watched in horror as fear began to dance in Ginny's brown orbs. The knuckles of Ginny's fists had turned white, and her freckles stood out even more than Hermione had ever seen them. It almost seemed as if doom's day had arrived for Ginny as guilt and horror flashed through her face.

"Harry can answer the questions better than Ginny since it's his wand," Hermione spoke up, trying to convince Tom to question Harry instead.

"I think Miss Weatherby is doing just fine, Hermione," answered Tom, casting her an amused glance before looking back at Ginny. "Do watch over your friend there, Hermione. I would rather get this done without having to hurt anyone."

His smile turned vicious, and Hermione was positive that he would more than welcome the chance to hex Harry. That thought in itself made her grimace out of worry, and she pulled Harry back by his arm.

It was obvious that the timeline had officially been changed by ridiculous amounts. Lord Voldemort was  ** _not_**  supposed to know about the Elder Wand until fifty years later. Unless ... she could chance a Memory Charm? Tom did have his eyes on Ginny and his wand pointed at Harry after all.

"Where do I find this Elder Wand?" Tom asked Ginny, who had not spoken a word throughout their whole interaction.

Moments later, he raised an eyebrow at what must have been Ginny's thoughts. In fact, he seemed somewhat amused. Taking a step away from her, he lowered his wand arm and looked at Hermione.

Once the wand was lowered, Harry and Hermione immediately rushed towards Ginny to make sure she was alright. Harry stood slightly in front of Ginny, almost as if he wanted to block her from Tom's view.

"Unless you don't want to go to Germany, Hermione," Tom said sharply, causing them to look at him, "I suggest keeping your hand off that wand of yours. One attempt on using the Memory Charm on me, and I will consider our deal null and void."

Face expressionless, his dark eyes ran through the four of them before landing on the only other Slytherin there. He swiftly walked up to Draco, and before the blond had a chance to react, Tom grabbed his left arm and pulled up the sleeve. There was a collective sharp intake of breaths around them, and Draco turned even paler than he was before as the faint shape of the inactive Dark Mark got exposed to the cold air.

"Interesting," said Tom very quietly and slowly as a single pale finger traced the shape. "Mind telling me where you got this mark from, Malloy?"

Staring straight into Draco's eyes, a vile smirk appeared on Tom's lips as he dug his finger down into the forearm of Draco's arm. A yelp resounded throughout the clearing as the Dark Mark turned black, sinister-looking under the silvery glow of the spheres, and Hermione started towards them. Before she could take another step, Tom's wand was aimed in Harry's direction again.

"Disregard my warning again, Hermione, and we'll start the morning by taking Evans to the infirmary," said Tom coldly.

Harry's hand flew to his pocket, as if he was taking up Tom's challenge, but Hermione stopped him before he could withdraw the wand. As much as it made her feel helpless watching Draco in pain from the activation of the Dark Mark, there was nothing she could do without letting the situation end with a duel. Though with the four of them dueling Tom, there was a good chance they might win, they still needed him to take them to Germany.

After what seemed like an eternity, Tom finally dropped Draco's arm and walked back to the center of the clearing without a second look backwards. None of them could concentrate on what he was doing while he set up the spell to send them to Germany. Hermione rushed towards Draco and bent down next to him.

"Are you alright?" she asked worriedly, staring at the shaking blond.

Ginny sank down to the grass, a slightly dazed look on her face before she covered it with her hands.

"Ginny ... Ginny, are you alright?" asked Harry softly, crouching down beside her, worried. "He didn't hurt you, did he?"

"What have I done ... Oh Merlin ... what have I done ... Oh, Harry. I'm so, so sorry," Ginny whimpered as she lifted her head from her hands. Tears leaked out of her eyes. "I didn't do it on purpose ... I didn't even know ... I hadn't prepared ... He just suddenly asked me, and I ... Oh, Harry." She ducked into Harry's embrace and cried into his shoulder.

"It's alright, Ginny. None of us knew he was going to ask you instead of me. We'd forgotten to limit the questions to me," Harry soothed her.

"No ... no ... it's my fault, Harry. I shouldn't have thought about the Elder Wand. What if he gets it now?" Ginny whispered.

The four of them looked in the direction where Tom was standing. Thankfully, he stood a good distance away, a distance with which Hermione knew he could not hear them if they whispered. He seemed to be surveying something in the skies as he occasionally flicked his wand in a different direction. Lime-colored jets of light would travel from his wand and disappear at approximately ten feet away from him. A strangely-shaped rock would appear over the spot where the light disappeared.

"We'll just have to prevent that from happening. We're going to Germany, aren't we? We'll have to get to Grindelwald before he does," Harry said in a low voice.

"He knows about Grindelwald, Harry. I thought about him when he asked me where the Elder Wand was," Ginny confessed, tears welling up in her eyes again.

"He may be a powerful wizard in the future, but I doubt Grindelwald would lose to him. After all, we have to remember that Grindelwald nearly took over continental Europe and only lost to Dumbledore," Hermione reminded them.

"Hermione's right, Ginny. Don't worry," Harry whispered, wiping her tears away with his thumb. "It took someone like Dumbledore to defeat Grindelwald. Riddle's not going to stand a chance against him."

"Yeah, Evans, it took someone like Dumbles to defeat Grindelwald. So ... pray tell,  ** _how_**  are we going to defeat the Dark Lord of the forties?" asked Draco, his complexion still stark white.

It was clear that he was still unsettled by Tom asking him that question, and he was visibly shaking under the bright moonlight. Hermione placed a hand on his shoulder.

"I don't know," Harry confessed, closing his eyes in defeat. When he opened them again, there was a renewed light of determination in them. "But we'll have to try. Even if it means ... defeat somewhere along the line, we'll have to try."

"Evans, we don't have Horcruxes like  ** _he_**  does," Draco hissed, moving closer to them. "We could easily ... just  ** _die_**  ... like that." He snapped his fingers to indicate what he meant. "Another thing is how do we know if he's really going to send us to Germany?"

"Well, that's what all of us want to know, isn't it?" Hermione answered, a frown marring her features. "We'd have to take the chance. Let's just hope that he still wants those last two questions."

They all fell silent, each immersed in their own thoughts. What Hermione had not mentioned was the nagging feeling she had after she heard Tom's questions. There was something ... off about the whole questioning session. It was almost as if ... he knew something he was not supposed to. For a moment, Hermione wondered if they had been betrayed. Tom had been badgering her about where they were from since the first day they arrived. Yet, the only thing he asked about was the wands. And the fact that he had only addressed the questions to Ginny, who was one of the two people in their group who did not know Occlumency ... The whole thing just struck her as weird.

She wanted to think that out of the three, she could probably trust Joseph, but with recent events, she had no choice but to suspect all of them. Alphard, Joseph, and Gareth each had something that made Hermione suspicious, and she was afraid that the more she thought into it, the more things she would find wrong with them. Another thing she could not brush aside was the possibility of having more than one traitor. What if there were two or, even worse, three people working to fish information out of them?

Saying that Hermione was confused would be an understatement, and it made her restless. If there were a traitor among them, Tom would now know much more about the future than was safe. She was more than glad that a few crucial things were kept out of conversation last night, but if Tom now knew that they were from the future, she doubted he would give them a break. He would use all means to get the information that they have.

Hermione nibbled her lower lip, worried. She glanced momentarily at Ginny. From the latter's expression, Hermione could only guess how much information Ginny had given Tom. However, it just did not feel alright to ask her right now, when she had already broken down and seemed like she was on the verge of breaking down again.

The silence was finally broken when Tom called out towards them. They turned around, and Hermione could not help but blink twice when she saw the set up. A ring of strangely shaped rocks still surrounded Tom, but a ball of flame hovered on top of each of them. Each rock emitted a faint yellowish light, combining with the bluish glow of the flames before reflecting towards each of the spheres hanging on the tree. Each of those spheres then projected a white colored light towards the air above where Tom was standing and connected at one single point.

They were hesitant about entering into the confinements of the strays of light, especially Draco and Harry. However, after Tom raised an eyebrow at them, Hermione inhaled deeply and stepped past the rocks on the floor before Harry could stop her.

A mocking smile appeared on Tom's face. "Seems like there's only one Gryffindor among the crowd."

"It really has nothing to do with courage," Hermione retorted, raising her eyebrows at him. "It has more to do with the untrustworthy company we're in."

Amusement replaced mockery, and he chuckled softly before his expression turned serious. "Runes need to be carved onto each of the rocks you see on the floor. I need three of you to help me carve them into the rocks or else we might run out of time."

In the end, Draco, Ginny, and Hermione found themselves with pieces of parchment, indicating what runes to carve. Hermione had been worried about Ginny's condition and if her emotions were stable enough to finish the job. However, in the end, Ginny managed to put on an expressionless face while Tom told them which rocks they were supposed to take care of, and they each set off to work, with Harry standing near Ginny, just in case she broke down again.

There were a total of twelve rocks on the floor, and Tom, Hermione, Ginny, and Draco each had to take care of three. Tom warned them against using spells to carve the rocks, since they had been made out of magic. Using spells on them would alter the magical properties, so instead, they were handed three chisels with which to carve the runes with.

When they were finally finished, Draco plopped down on the grass and wiped the sweat off his forehead while Hermione and Ginny rubbed their slightly soring arms.

"We should get inside the circle of rocks. It's nearly time," Tom spoke up, rolling down his sleeves.

"Wait a second. We?" Harry asked, staring at Tom suspiciously.

His words caught everyone's attention, and their eyes immediately flew over to the Tom, whose lips were slowly curving into a faint smile and eyebrow rose.

"Of course, Evans. I recall I happen to be the only one who knows how this whole traveling spell works—"

"You're not planning on traveling to Germany with us, are you?" Harry cut in, his voice hostile.

"I still want my last two questions, Evans. If you stay in Germany permanently, I doubt that would happen," Tom answered smoothly.

"Then just give us the book with the directions! We don't need you coming along with us," Harry countered.

"I'm afraid that that's not possible," Tom replied, folding his arms across his chest. "I'm not going to rip pages out of a rare tome just for you, Evans, and neither do I feel like sharing the other spells in the book with you." His smile turned sarcastic. "Of course, if you don't want to go to Germany anymore, I wouldn't have a problem with that."

Harry's hand twitched, and Hermione immediately pulled on his sleeve to prevent him from cursing Tom on the spot.

"You can easily make a copy of the directions and lend it to us," Hermione pointed out, observing Tom's features.

What were his intentions? She doubted he cared about Dumbledore's health and well-being. Was he trying to travel with them to Germany to sabotage any possibilities of them saving Dumbledore? It sounded stupid even in Hermione's mind, but she wouldn't put it past Lord Voldemort.

He had done enough ridiculously stupid things in the future to warrant it.

"So you can make multiple copies of it for future references? I think not, Hermione," Tom replied.

"You're not going to Germany with us," Harry repeated himself.

In the background, Draco had already sat up straight, staring at Tom as if he were Death himself. Ginny's eyes were unblinking as she ogled in horror at the possibility of Tom traveling with them to Germany. There were a million things that could go wrong if he went with them, but Hermione could not think of a way to convince him to stay.

"You're the Head Boy. If you suddenly disappear for a couple of days—" she began to say.

"Which should be something that  ** _I_**  worry about and not something that should concern you, Hermione," responded Tom. He casually looked upwards towards the skies. "It's nearly time. Unless you don't want to go to Germany, I suggest you enter the circle of rocks now."

Hermione had guessed that he was going to get other benefits from their arrangements, but it was certainly not this. It was rather apparent now that he did not tell them that he planned to go with them just so he could have his questions answered and not give them the time needed to prevent him from going to Germany with them.

Hermione shot a look at Harry, who had a furious look on his face. However, when he caught her eyes, he gave her a stiff nod; they did not have another choice. Together, with Ginny, they walked into the circle. Draco, on the other hand, stood up but took a step backwards. Hermione let out an exasperated sigh, stomped out of the circle, and grabbed Draco's arm.

"Granger, you're not really letting him come with us, are you? Convince him not to go with us, I know you can," Draco whispered quickly, refusing to budge from his spot.

"Does it look like he's letting us convince him? You should know him better than the three of us. Besides, the decision isn't even up to us," answered Hermione, shooting Tom another annoyed glance.

"But—but—" Draco stuttered.

"Just get in the circle," Hermione growled. "We don't need you giving us even more trouble for this trip."

"But—but—"

Ignoring his protests, Hermione tugged his arm with all her might towards the circle, which was made difficult by him not cooperating at all. Throughout the whole distance, he continued whispering to her the potential problems that would occur if Tom went to Germany with them.

As if she hadn't known  ** _that_**  already.

When they were finally there, Draco stood between and slightly behind Harry and Ginny. Tom raised an eyebrow at him, amused, before he spoke.

"The spell only works during the new moon, which is why I've instructed for you to meet me here on the fourteenth. In approximately three minutes, if we've done everything correctly, we will be transported to the wizarding community near the Thuringian Forest, where you've told me one of Dumbledore's contacts lived," said Tom, looking at Hermione, who stood in between him and Ginny.

As if on cue, the yellowish glow of the rocks turned a sinister red, making it seem as if the rocks were burning, while the flames turned green. The spheres of light hanging on the trees started to swing back in forth, as though being pushed by huge gusts of wind. The runes carved on the rocks remained yellowish in color as they rearranged themselves. Gradually, they picked up speed until it became a whirlpool like blur. The point hovering above them started to pulse and grew brighter with each passing second.

Suddenly, Tom cursed, causing them to tore their eyes from the fascinating scene in front of them and turned towards him.

"Get out of the line of rocks immediately," Tom ordered, turning around to move out. Harry, who was standing on his other side, grabbed a hold of him.

"Why?" demanded Harry.

"Because there's an eclipse tonight," Tom replied, and Hermione was frightened by his tone of voice. There was a certain urgency in it, and she knew he was not kidding.

However, before they could make another move, all of the flashing lights surrounding them brightened intensely, forcing them to shut their eyes.

And then everything turned dark.

~-0-~

Her mouth formed into a silent "O" as she was propelled through the air, and for a moment, her mind went completely blank before fear surged through every single cell of her body. Then, she finally found her voice when she began to fall. A bloodcurdling scream erupted from her throat as she felt herself drop towards the ground at a fast speed.

"Oomph," Hermione grunted when she thrown into a pile of snow.

She remained still for a while, uncertain whether there were any broken bones from the impact. She hadn't heard any sickening cracks when she fell, so that was a good sign, and so far, she didn't feel any specific points of pain. So, she tried to push herself up, but found her muscles out of her control. It was as if someone took some kind of vacuum and extracted most of her energy from her. Disgruntled, she twisted her neck to the side with all the strength she could muster and waited for her limbs to listen to her commands again while mentally cursing at Tom Marvolo Riddle.

She should have known that any "ingenious" plans Lord Voldemort came up with had to have some kind of glitch in them. If he had bothered to tell her that the new moon was required for the spell, she might have remembered to remind him that there was an eclipse today. But no, Mr. Tom I-Must-Devise-Plans-With-Ridiculously-Large-Holes-In-Them Riddle had to remain bloody secretive and throw them into this kind of bloody situation.

Not only did their attempt to go to Germany completely failed, but she had been thrown up into the air and dropped like a ragged doll (though, perhaps she should be thankful that it was not on harder surfaces such as cement). On top of that, she was still bloody sprawling in the snow without an ounce of energy left in her because of Merlin-knew-what. She could be certain that the others were also suffering from the same thing because she hadn't heard curses from Harry or whimpers from Draco yet.

She was most definitely going to hex the living daylights out of Tom Riddle before she Obliviated that and information about the wands from his mind.

After what seemed like an eternity, she gingerly pushed herself into sitting position and curled her fingers together to make sure that they were still in working order. Except for the numbness caused by the cold, there seemed to be nothing wrong. That made her slightly relieved until she took in surroundings.

Wherever she was, it was definitely not the Forbidden Forest.

The trees were distributed too far away from each other, and she could quite clearly see the slowly brightening skies above her. Though the ground and trees were covered with snow, much like the Forbidden Forest, it lacked the creepy, frightening feeling. No, Hermione Granger was positive that she was not in the forest she had come to know.

A renewed feeling of dread swept through her when she swiveled her head around and could not find any signs of her companions. The fast movement with which she was moving her head and eyes made a wave of dizziness wash through her again, so she was forced to stop. However, not looking and moving around meant that her mind had time to think of overwhelming questions: Where was she?  ** _When_**  was she? What if Tom's spell somehow altered into a time traveling spell and sent her to some random era in time? She didn't know what spell Tom used, so how would she go back? What if Harry and the others got thrown into another time period, too? How would she ever find them again?

Taking a deep breath, she closed her eyes and mentally counted to ten, trying to calm her rapidly increasing heart rate. At a moment like this, she had to keep a cool head and not allow herself to fret. It would only make matters worse. Perhaps matters were not as frightening as her mind was making them out to be. She should wait for her energy to return and search the immediate area for signs of Harry and the others before making an absurd conclusion. Hopefully, they were still in the same country and not some random place and time.

A few minutes later, she first gently shook out her limbs before attempting to stand up. Although her body still felt kind of wobbly and heavy, she managed to get on both of her feet.

"Hermione!" a distant voice called out, causing her to turn around.

However, the quick action triggered another wave of dizziness, and she had to steady herself with the help of a nearby tree. Looking towards the source of the sound, she found a familiar head of flaming red hair, very apparent against the pure white of freshly fallen snow.

"Ginny!" she called out, a relieved smile appearing on her face.

As Hermione had predicted, Ginny was also suffering from the fatigue she was going through, and it took both of them a very long time before they reached one another. After giving each other confirmations that they were unharmed except for the strange loss of energy, they found a smooth slab of rock and sat down.

"We're not in the Forbidden Forest," commented Ginny as Hermione conjured a small blue-flamed fire in front of them to keep them warm.

"No, we're not," Hermione confirmed, a frown marring her features. "To tell the truth, I have no idea where we are."

"Me neither," Ginny replied with equal grimness. "Although I hope we're lucky and find out that we're in Germany."

"Hopefully the Germany of 1945 and not some other time period," Hermione added.

With a heavy sigh, Ginny nodded. A short pause followed before she opened her mouth again, "Do you think the others are here, too?"

"I don't know ... but if they are, they either haven't regained enough of their energy to call out to us yet or they're too far away to hear us," Hermione theorized.

"I hope they're alright," Ginny whispered worriedly.

The frown deepened on Hermione's face, and she nodded. She had an inkling of an idea about what Ginny was concerned about. If, somehow, Tom ended up in the same area with Harry or Draco, the only thing that could occur was disaster. Hermione could not begin to imagine what kind of ruins Ginny and she would end up finding.

In the end, they decided to rest for a little while and regain their strengths before heading out into the unknown forest to look for the others. However, their search was fruitless, and they appeared to be the only ones in the immediate area. After a short discussion, they randomly chose a direction and began walking through the forest, hoping that they could come across some town to find out exactly when and where they were.

~-0-~

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **A/N** : Many thanks to catcachoo (from PI) and Nerys for beta-ing the chapter. 


	39. Chapter 39

**Chapter 39**

"Oomph," Draco groaned as he fell down, scrunching up his face in pain.

It appeared that they were all thrown through the air and on to the floor. Not the best way of travel, if you asked Draco, and Salazar knew if they had travelled at all, since the Dark Lord looked worried right before they were propelled across the sky. If Draco found out that they had not travelled at all and had only been merely thrown across the Forbidden Forest … well, he would find someone unrelated to Salazar Slytherin to take his anger out on.

Inhaling deeply, he tried to push himself off the floor, but found it impossible to do so. His limbs were not listening to his commands, as if something sucked every drop of energy out of him. Horrified, he opened his eyes, and he wished he hadn't done so because the scene that greeted him was even more terrifying than the fact that he had lost his energy.

Bloody hell, he fell on top of the Dark Lord. Again. And said Dark Lord looked most displeased with him.

The worst thing was that he would have scrambled off Riddle immediately, but he did not have the strength to do so.

"For heaven's sake, you're heavy, Malloy," Harry muttered beneath the Dark Lord. Somehow all three of them managed to land right on top of one another.

Brilliant. This was completely brilliant. On some other occasions, Draco could have laughed about the fact that he landed on top and fell on the Boy Who Lived to Annoy All Others Who Lived. Now, however, if he dared to laugh, the Dark Wizard Who Got Vanquished by the Boy Who Lived might get the wrong idea and have another reason to torture and murder him.

"It was an accident, I swear," Draco all but whimpered.

As if Riddle cared, and it was pretty obvious that Draco had better stay as far as he could away from him on every occasion.

As soon as Draco mustered enough strength, he rolled over to the side. From the corner of his eye, he saw the Dark Lord roll off Harry, too, and the three of them remained there, sprawled on the ground under the slowly brightening skies.

"Where are we?" Draco murmured, taking in the unfamiliar surroundings.

Although everything was still trees and snow, it was obvious that they were no longer in the Forbidden Forest.

"Germany," answered Riddle. "Hopefully."

"Hopefully? It was  ** _your_**  spell, Riddle," Harry said through gritted teeth.

"And the eclipse interfered with it," the Dark Lord replied.

"Right, like you are likely to forget something that we've been talking about in class for weeks," Harry retorted.

"Pray tell, Evans, what do I gain from doing this on purpose?" asked the Dark Lord in a voice one usually reserved for children.

"How am I supposed to know? It's probably one of your 'brilliant' plans gone wrong. Besides, if you hadn't known that there was something wrong, why did you tell us to step out of the line of rocks?"

"Exactly, Evans. If it were, as you've so wonderfully phrased it, one of my 'brilliant' plans, why would I bother to tell you to get out?" asked Riddle. "The colors of the light surrounding us were not right, and I deduced that the eclipse was interfering with the spell."

"You would think that this was something to check before putting all of us in danger," Harry said.

"Intelligent, Evans. Do tell me: Have you actually seen the spell that I've used in another book? No, because only one book has it documented, and the spell hasn't been tested with an eclipse before," Riddle said, not bothering to look at him, "and I doubted you would've wanted to wait another month before traveling."

"Well, if you would've told us that  ** _this_**  was going to happen, we would've waited!" fumed Harry.

"Are you even listening? If the spell hasn't been tested with an eclipse before, of course I wouldn't know that  ** _this_**  would have happened," replied Riddle.

And somehow, the two of them managed to have a full blown argument as they lay in the snow. Draco, on the other hand, was more concerned about the strangeness of their current situation. It was obvious that their energies were not depleted to the point that they could not talk to one another. So why wasn't Granger stopping them from rowing with one another?

"Granger? Weatherby?" Draco tested calling out.

The only sounds that met his calls were the raising voices of Harry and the Dark Lord, and Draco was pretty sure that if they could help it, they would have drawn out their wands and pointed it at one another already. When Draco could not hear answers from the girls, his worry increased at a rapid pace.

"Granger? Weatherby?" he tried again in a louder voice.

This time, Riddle and Harry's near shouting voices stopped. However, there was still not a peep from the girls. Digging his elbow into the snow beneath him, Draco struggled to sit up and was somewhat relieved to find that he had enough energy to do so. Nonetheless, the moment he looked around, his heart dropped. Beside him, Harry and the Dark Lord pushed themselves up, but there was no one else in sight. They were the only three people present in the forest.

"Where are they?" Draco asked in a hushed tone of voice.

However, no one answered him. Instead, a sound of outrage escaped Harry.

"You did this on purpose, didn't you, Riddle?"

A raised eyebrow met Harry's accusations, and it only served to make him angrier.

"Don't even think about lying, Riddle. You did this on purpose. I know you did. Where did you send them?" Harry demanded.

"For once, Evans, do you mind using that thing in your head called a brain? Or is it, like your ears, malfunctioning? Do tell me the point of sending them somewhere else?" asked the Dark Lord.

"Because you're  ** _you_** , and I don't believe that this has nothing to do with you. It was your plan all along, wasn't it?" Harry accused him.

"Right, Evans. That makes so much sense," Riddle mocked, leaning towards him, "because there's nothing more fun than staying in the snow, sandwiched between two idiots, without an ounce of energy left in my body."

"And how am I the idiot? I'm not the one who landed us in the middle of nowhere," Harry retorted.

"Perhaps you also need new glasses, Evans. There's snow beneath us, trees surrounding us, and the skies brightening above us; this is apparently ‘somewhere’ and not ‘nowhere,’" Riddle said, sarcasm dripping from his words.

"For all I know, we could still be in the Forbidden Forest," said Harry.

"Your intelligence overwhelms me," jeered Riddle. "Even though I accept the fact that you've probably never travelled throughout the entire Forbidden Forest, it doesn't take a genius to work out that we are no longer there. This is clearly somewhere else."

Draco had no idea how the two of them had so many things to argue about. However, his main concern right now was certainly not how to break up the row between them. He first needed to find out where Hermione and Weaselette were. He did not fancy camping out with either Harry or Riddle, the latter of which might take this opportunity to off him once and for all. But try as he might, he could not find any signs of Hermione or Weatherby.

When they finally gathered enough strength, they pushed themselves up (with Harry and Tom still throwing insults at one another) and peered behind every rock and tree in the approximate area. Though Draco doubted they would find them there, it was still, in his opinion, worth a try. The girls might have been knocked out and couldn't answer their previous calls.

When they regrouped again without finding any trace of the girls, an expression of deep thought appeared on Riddle's face while Harry muttered something about "sneaky, untrustworthy Slytherins." Ignoring Harry, Riddle started pacing back and forth in front of them.

"The spell must have somehow separated us. When we carved the runes into the rocks, the location had to be stated. So unless I'm very much mistaken, we are in Germany, but merely in different parts of it," Riddle said, though Draco had the distinct feeling that he was talking more to himself than to the two of them. "I've specifically designated the transportation to take us to the village on the north side of the forest and not the south side … perhaps the eclipse overrode the instructions and sent the three of us to one side and Hermione and Weatherby to the other side …"

Blimey, how in Merlin's name were they going to find the girls then? Now Draco was extremely worried.

"So we should first find a town and find out if we're on the north side or the south side. If we find Dumbledore's contacts, we could wait for Hermione and Weatherby there," Riddle continued.

"And walk into some trap you've set up for us? You wish, Riddle," Harry cut in.

Crossing his arms over his chest, Riddle stared at Harry with a mocking smile. "Oh? Does the ingenious Harry Evans have another mind-blowing plan then? Do enlighten us."

Annoyance was written all over Harry's face, but he did not say anything in return.

"Do you have any other plan?" Draco asked Harry in a low voice.

When Harry did not answer, Riddle pulled out his wand and cast a Four-Point Spell. Staring off towards the north, his smile turned into a sneer.

"Perhaps his plan is to stay sitting in the snow. Can't say it definitely won't work, since there's a mild chance that Hermione and Miss Weatherby might walk through this part of the forest and encounter the two of you. Best of luck."

Casting one last condescending look at them, he turned around and trudged through the snow, leaving behind a disgruntled Harry and worried Draco.

~-0-~

A few hours of walking later, Hermione and Ginny finally arrived at the foot of a village. Upon seeing the signs on the shops, they nearly shouted out in glee; the only thing stopping them was the fact that they were afraid that people might look at them strangely. It appeared that they were, indeed, in Germany and luckily, in a German wizarding town. With the money they had borrowed from Dumbledore for Hogsmeade, they bought some food and drinks in what appeared to be an inn.

After asking what year they were in, Hermione and Ginny tried to act as if their question were a normal everyday question and did their best to ignore the strange looks the waiter gave them while heading back to the kitchen. Much to their relief, they were still in 1945, so the only problems they had left were finding the boys and Dumbledore's contacts. In the limited German they knew, they tried to ask the waiter if he knew a Paulos Meinhardt or a Dietfried Kaufmann. However, perhaps due to their strange question, he would not give them direct answers.

In the end, they gave up on trying to get information from him and asked the innkeeper instead. Either the waiter had alerted the innkeeper that there was something strange about the two foreign girls or the wizards there were just plain suspicious about people—which was understandable, due to Grindelwald being in power at this time—but the innkeeper asked them quite a bit of questions before telling them to wait at one of the tables.

Ginny and Hermione shared a look between one another as the waiter who had served them shot them one last glance before rushing out the door. Hopefully, he wasn't going to Meinhardt or Kaufmann to tell them to go into hiding. The girls didn't think that they looked  ** _that_**  dangerous to warrant that kind of reaction from the people here.

Nearly half an hour later, the waiter returned with a house-elf, causing Hermione and Ginny to blink.

"Either one of them owns a house-elf or that house-elf is one of them," Ginny muttered.

Hermione snorted before she could stop herself. Though the idea of Meinhardt or Kaufmann owning a house-elf really, really bothered her, she composed her expression as the waiter made his way towards them with the house-elf in tow. After a short introduction—it turned out that the house-elf, indeed, belonged to Meinhardt—the girls were told to follow the house-elf to Meinhardt's house, which was not too far away.

"Better keep those S.P.E.W. buttons out of sight," Ginny said softly as they walked through the streets behind the house-elf.

The corner of Hermione's lips twitched and she shot her a good-natured glare.

The rooftops of shops and homes were laden with snow, reminding Hermione of the gingerbread houses. The clouds lay low, and light snow drifted down from the skies like salt being sprinkled. Though it was hardly noontime yet, people were out and about, bustling through the streets. A mother with two children walked passed them, chiding the elder one softly, though Hermione and Ginny had no idea what, since she was speaking in German. A wizard was waving his wand at the rooftop while an older woman, presumably his mother, yelled at him when the snow on the roof turned into a sheet of solid ice. A few stores down, a witch chatted with the shopkeeper, her hands waving and nearly whacking her son in the face.

The house-elf led them further and further away from the crowd, finally steering them into a quiet alley. It led them past a small patch of forest, making a turn at what seemed like a wall of tall hedges. The "house" that appeared behind the barricade made them stop in their steps.

The wrought iron gates unlocked with a simple touch by the house-elf and opened up to a straight stone passage flanked by snow-covered gardens. The path diverged into two paths, encircling an icicle-decorated fountain, before converging and leading up to three-story mansion. The redwood doors opened without the house-elf touching it, so Hermione and Ginny could only assume that it had been magicked to differentiate between strangers and invited friends.

A tall, thin wizard wearing a pinstriped suit stood up from one of the armchairs near the fireplace. His head of white hair was speckled with gray, but his clean-shaved face did not have a trace of wrinkles. A lady, who looked at most in her late thirties, sat in the other armchair, a shawl wrapped around her shoulders and a blanket covering her legs. Both of them had the most welcoming smiles on their faces.

"Welcome to my home. Colbert sent a boy over, who told me that you were looking for me in his inn. Unfortunately, my wife recently came down with a cold, so I did not want to stay too far away," the man said.

"Good day, Herr Meinhardt," Ginny said, bowing her head. "I'm Ginny Weatherby, and this is Hermione Granger …"

A look of realization dawned on Meinhardt's face.

"You must be Albus's students from Hogwarts," he said, much to Hermione and Ginny's surprise. After they nodded their confirmations, he continued, "And I'm guessing that you're here because of Albus's disappearance."

"Yes, Herr Meinhardt. Have you seen him?" Ginny asked.

"Unfortunately, I haven't seen him for quite a while. I must say that I was quite surprised when he came to Germany and hadn't contacted me. I didn’t know he was here until I read in the newspapers that he had gone missing," Meinhardt replied, frowning. "They are speculating that Gellert's had a hand in this, but I highly doubt it, seeing that he's gone into hiding ever since Albus came to Germany."

"Grindelwald went into hiding?" Hermione blurted out before she could stop herself. A furious blush blossomed on her face when Meinhardt turned his attention towards her.

"Yes," Meinhardt answered with an amused smile. "Quite surprising, isn't it? But for those of us who know Albus and Gellert, not really."

Hermione and Ginny shared a quick look, feeling a bit uneasy knowing that Meinhardt was also a friend of Gellert Grindelwald. Well, if Meinhardt was a friend of Dumbledore, they should be safe, shouldn't they?

"It's a long story, too long to be interesting to you I would say, but you see, the only person Gellert has ever been afraid of is Albus. The fact that Albus came to Germany in secret … well, that certainly does not put Gellert at ease," said Meinhardt. "Therefore, I can tell you right now that the speculations of the newspapers are rubbish."

"But if it's not Grindelwald, then who else could've detained Professor Dumbledore?" Hermione asked.

"That is something I would like to find out, too, Fräulein," Meinhardt said. "In fact, I was going to ask a friend of mine and Albus if he had seen him, if my wife hadn't gotten ill."

"Do you mean … Herr Dietfried Kaufmann?" Ginny asked.

"Yes … have you gone to see Dietfried already?" Meinhardt looked at them with worry in his eyes.

"No, not yet," Hermione replied, shaking her head. "We tried asking around at the inn, but …"

"Oh, Dietfried doesn't live in this town," said Meinhardt, his features visibly becoming more relaxed. It was then clear to Hermione and Ginny that he had been afraid that Kaufmann, too, had no news about Dumbledore. "He lives on the other side of the forest."

After a short discussion, Meinhardt offered to let Hermione and Ginny use his Floo network to travel to Kaufmann's house. Before they left, the pale and fragile wife of Meinhardt offered them a place to stay should they ever need it before finding Dumbledore, and each grabbing a handful of Floo powder, Hermione and Ginny stepped into the fireplace and headed towards the house of Dumbledore's second German contact.

~-0-~

Hermione's rage exploded, spewing ash all over her conscience and burying the logical side of her mind the moment she stepped through the fireplace of Dietfried Kaufmann.

The three young men whom they had been looking for sat quite comfortably in front of the fireplace, having tea and biscuits. From the looks of it, they had been in the house for a while already. Additionally, a woman—a provocatively dressed woman to be exact—was half sitting on Tom Marvolo Riddle's lap.

Hermione's hand flew to her wand, and she would have hexed both of them to oblivion if Ginny had not grabbed her arm in time. Though Harry might have noticed those strange actions between Hermione and Ginny, he did not comment on it, much too relieved to see the two of them safe and sound. Draco, however, raised an eyebrow at Hermione's arm before looking back at her face, worry and amusement contorting his features, while a barely noticeable smirk tugged at the corner of Tom's lips.

"Ginny! Hermione!" Harry called out, happiness radiating from his face and voice.

The woman hovering over Tom seemed shocked and taken aback by the appearance of two strangers in her house. However, she was  ** _still_**  on Tom's lap, much to Hermione's annoyance, and the urge to hex said woman was increasing by the millisecond. The woman composed herself before shouting something in German.

"Don't worry, Ernsta. They're the companions we were telling Herr Kaufmann about," Tom said softly, placing a hand on her shoulder.

Hermione's hand twitched again, and her mind started to sift through the different curses she could use on the duo in front of her.

"Oh," the woman replied, blinking her large eyes at Hermione and Ginny before placing her attention back on Tom. "You've never mentioned that they were  ** _girls_**." Placing a hand on Tom's chest, she shifted her body, almost like she was trying to get up from her position. "I'm so very sorry, Tom. How very clumsy of me to fall on top of you."

"It's not a problem," said Tom, a faint smile on his face.

"Er … this is Mrs. Kaufmann, Herr Kaufmann's wife," Harry introduced.

"Pleasure," said Hermione stonily, still eying "Mrs. Kaufmann" and Tom with contempt.

_She's got to be kidding me. It does not take that long to get off someone's lap, and if she doesn't get up soon …_

"Tsk, Harry," Ernsta Kaufmann chided, completely ignoring Hermione and Ginny. She finally got off Tom's lap and sashayed over to where Harry was sitting. Placing her hand on his arm, she slid it upwards and downwards while saying, "How many times do I have to tell you to call me ‘Ernsta’ and not ‘Mrs. Kaufmann?’"

"Er …" Harry stuttered. A shade of red appeared on his cheeks, and he slipped out of his chair. "You're … you're Herr Kaufmann's wife after all … and …"

Ernsta laughed and stepped towards him. "Don't be silly, Harry. I'm not  ** _that_**  much older than you."

Beside Hermione, Ginny gritted her teeth and clenched her hands into fists as Harry stumbled backwards towards them.

"I know, you've told me already," Harry replied, a forced smile on his face as he held up his hands.

"And yet you still don't call me ‘Ernsta,’" the witch pouted.

On the side, Draco and Tom were looking on with amused smirks, as if the situation was nothing new to them. It made Hermione wonder just how long the three of them had been there and if this indeed happened on regular basis. If this "Mrs. Kaufmann" dared to be so …  ** _forward_**  with Harry, then Merlin knew what she had done to Tom. That thought in itself bothered Hermione. Extremely bothered her.

"Um … perhaps I should go and get some more armchairs for Hermione and Ginny," Harry said instead, changing the topic rather clumsily.

Ernsta's lips curved into a smile as she said, "Of course. I'll show you the way."

She turned around and exited through a door with Harry a small distance away from her.

"I'd keep an eye on her if I were you," Draco spoke up when Ernsta and Harry were no longer in sight.

"That," Ginny said, "is obvious."

"And yet you still stand here in front of me instead of following after them," Draco hinted, raising an eyebrow.

The impending drama that might occur caused his smirk to widen as Ginny stomped towards the door that was left slightly open from Harry. Seconds later, a scream echoed throughout the room, and Ernsta rushed out. It took the people in front of the fireplace a short moment to register the fact that the woman was covered from head to toe with critters, and when it did, a wide grin spread across Hermione's face while Tom and Draco covered their mouths subtly with their hands to hide their amusement.

Still howling (though Hermione had no idea if it were from fear, disgust, or pain), the victim of Ginny Weasley's curse ran across the room, pulled open the door, and ran up the stairs, genuinely tripping and falling this time. A loud, resounding bang echoed throughout the house when Ernsta Kaufmann reached the second floor while Ginny and Harry appeared from the doorway they had disappeared through a few minutes earlier. Vicious joy was imprinted on Ginny's face as she stowed away her wand and stalked over to where Hermione standing.

"Impressive," Tom murmured as he leaned back in his armchair and crossed his legs at his ankles.

Harry, on the other hand, had the look of utmost horror on his face as he shuffled towards where they were seated, taking care to keep a small distance away from Ginny.

"She's Herr Kaufmann's wife," Harry reminded them in a hushed tone of voice.

"You, Harry James Evans, have a lot of explaining to do," said Ginny, narrowing her eyes at him as she placed her hands on her waist.

"Ginny," Harry protested, shooting a glance at their current company.

" ** _Well_**?" Ginny pressed on.

"Well, it's pretty obvious, isn't it?" Draco spoke up.

"Shut it, ferret boy," Harry growled before looking back at Ginny.

Draco raised an eyebrow at him, and a vicious glint passed through his eyes. "You should've  ** _seen_**  Mrs. Kaufmann. She just couldn't keep her hands off Evans here this morning at breakfast."

Harry most likely would have hexed Draco on the spot if Ginny hadn't made a strangled sort of noise. Even though it was obvious to everyone in the room that Draco was exaggerating things to get Harry in trouble, it still made Ginny furious.

"Just because she didn't give you her undivided attention doesn't mean that she couldn't keep her hands off me," said Harry, shooting a quick glare at Draco.

The smirk on Draco's face disappeared, and a pink tinge appeared on his cheeks. "It just proves that she has no taste."

"I think that you would find that it has little to do with tastes, Mr. Malloy," answered Tom instead.

"I'm sure you know all about that. Just because she has her hands all over you doesn't mean that she has excellent taste," Hermione retorted before she could stop herself.

Harry and Draco turned their heads around and stared at her, causing her to avert her eyes as her cheeks burned. Tom uncrossed his legs and leaned forward towards her, the smile on his face broadening.

"I'm sure you're  ** _very_**  interested in where she had her hands on me."

She was, but it was not something she was going to admit while Harry and Draco were in the room. The two of them were already looking at her with concern and suspicion in their eyes. She did not need to give them more reasons to question her relationship with Tom.

Definitely not. Therefore, she was not going to jump on Tom's baits. It was obvious that he was doing this on purpose. The way his eyes were glinting with mirth was more than telling, and she was not about to give him the satisfaction of being successful.

"What were you doing with that woman in that room?" Ginny demanded, narrowing her eyes and crossing her arms over her chest.

"Ginny, you saw her," Harry said, turning his attention back to her.

"We didn't," Draco spoke up.

"Shush, ferret," Harry said through gritted teeth.

"What did she do this time? Sit on your lap? Or throw herself in your arms again?" asked Tom.

"Again?  ** _Again_**?" Ginny fumed.

"Wait – Ginny – look – listen – " Harry cowered.

Alas, there was nothing he could do as Ginny Weasley unleashed her anger.

~-0-~

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **A/N:** Huge thanks to catcachoo (from PI) and Nerys for beta-ing the chapter! 


	40. Chapter 40

Although Ernsta managed to cure herself of Ginny's curse, she still hid in her room and refused to come out afterwards. Therefore, Hermione and Ginny had to wait until Dietfried Kaufmann came home before they knew which room they could stay in—or if they would be welcomed at all after he found out what Ginny did to his wife.

Ginny refused to talk about what happened in the storage room and glared at Harry—who now had scaly, purple skin and green hair—when Hermione asked about it. Draco and Tom were both quite amused when they saw the color of Harry's hair.

"Great hair color, Evans," Draco snickered. "Always knew you were a Slytherin at heart. Perhaps we should get you a silver tie to go with it?"

Harry shot Draco an annoyed look before looking back at Ginny. "I didn't do anything, Ginny—"

"Which was precisely the problem," Ginny cut in. "I'm sure it's so very difficult to push away that woman."

"I did try to push her away," Harry argued, shooting a dirty look at Draco who was still guffawing at the side.

"Apparently, not hard enough," Ginny said dryly.

She was saved the trouble of having to explain to Dietfried Kaufmann, since Ernsta did not say anything to him when he returned. She seemed to realize that other things, including her less than proper movements towards Harry and Tom, would come out of the bag, too, if she were to tell. So, their host remained oblivious to what happened when the girls arrived through the fireplace.

Dietfried was quite a bit shorter than Paulos Meinhardt and appeared frailer looking with his hunched back and hollow cheeks. In contrast to Meinhardt's immaculate clothes, Dietfried could have passed for a common villager. In fact, if Draco hadn't mentioned it, they would not have known that Kaufmann was much richer than Meinhardt.

"And how do you know?" Hermione asked in a low voice as they sat at the dining table while Dietfried prepared their dinner.

"Abraxas mentioned it the other day when we were talking about … er …" Draco trailed off, casting an unsure glance towards Tom.

Tom raised an eyebrow and took a drink out of his glass. "The Parkinsons' marriage proposal?"

Draco did not answer, and Hermione could not help but perk up her ears at the mention. She had yet to find out his reaction to what the Parkinsons were offering.

"Talking about the Parkinsons, whatever happened to Melantha Parkinson?" Harry spoke up, looking at Draco with a frown on his now regular-colored face. Although Ginny was still treating him rather coldly, at least it seemed that he had apologized enough to receive the counter-curse. However, his hair was still an attention-catching bright green.

Taking a sip out of her own glass, Hermione managed to keep a mildly interested face on at his question.

"Horned," Draco replied.

Harry raised his eyebrows. "Horned?"

"As in horned," Draco said. "She has … something like pimples on her face, but there are tiny horns on top of them."

Harry scrunched up his face in disgust. "Who would do something like that to her?"

"If you ask me, I think it's the same person who cursed Iris, since the trigger seems to be …" Draco trailed off again and cast another look at Tom.

As if on cue, both Harry and Draco's eyes landed on Hermione, who picked up a piece of bread and buttered it without saying anything.

Instead, Ginny spoke up. "You still haven't said why you and Malfoy mentioned that irritable woman."

"Well, you saw the, er, flirty side of her already," Draco said with a smirk. "There's more to it."

"More to it?" Ginny asked, raising her eyebrows.

Before Draco could answer, Dietfried returned with plates and plates of food levitating towards them. After a delicious but tension-filled dinner (the highlights including less than kind staring contests between Ernsta and Ginny), they each returned to their rooms.

Although the Kaufmann residence appeared less well-kept than Meinhardt's mansion, it was still quite cozy and comfortable. It had two floors with a master bedroom and two guestrooms on the second floor and one guestroom on the first floor. The time travelers shared the two rooms on the second floor, with the girls in one room and the boys in the other, while Tom took the room on the first floor. Though both Harry and Draco were rather disgruntled with the arrangements ("Shouldn't Slytherins share the same room?" muttered Harry at Hermione's suggestion and fell silent when Ginny gave him a look), they both mutually agreed that it was better than sharing a room with Tom.

Figuring that Ginny might want some alone time with Harry, Hermione remained in their shared room when Ginny visited the boys' room. Shortly after Ginny left, the door opened after a knock on the door.

"Good evening, Fräulein Hermione," Dietfried greeted her with a kindly smile.

"Good evening," she replied with a similar smile.

"I just wanted to tell you that the bathroom is located directly across the hall from your room. If there's anything else you need, please do not hesitate to tell me," said Dietfried.

"Thank you so much," said Hermione.

"It's not a problem. After all, you are Albus's students. I must say, to come all the way out here to look for your professor … I'm sure he must be very glad to have the five of you as his students," Dietfried said.

Hermione had no idea how to reply to his words, seeing that "the five of you" included Tom, too, so she simply answered with a meek smile before asking, "Harry told me that you went out this morning to ask around if Professor Dumbledore had been seen after he visited you …"

"Ah, yes," Dietfried said. Entering the room, he sat down in the chair next to the door. "It appeared that he traveled directly into the forest on the north side of the village."

"And he never came back?" Hermione asked.

A frown appeared on Dietfried's face and he sighed. "Nobody had ever come out of that forest alive, Fräulein."

"Are you saying …" Hermione halted in her words, not daring to continue.

"No, no, Fräulein. I am worried, of course, but I have faith in Albus. He is, after all, Albus Dumbledore, and I am sure you know he is an excellent wizard. I doubt there are many things that can harm him," Dietfried answered, shaking his head. "I am simply worried that there might be some trap in there that's holding him back."

"But I thought Herr Meinhardt said that Grindelwald's gone into hiding," Hermione pointed out.

"Yes, Gellert's gone into hiding. Serves him right, too," Dietfried said, waving his hand and shaking his head again as if in annoyance.

A string of German followed, and Hermione could only sit quietly and wait until Dietfried finished his, what Hermione presume was, complaining. When he finally stopped, he shot Hermione an apologetic smile and continued with what he was saying before his rant.

"There are other people out there who envy and despise Albus because of his powers, Fräulein, so I wouldn't be surprised if others might want to harm him. But of course, if they were to trap him, I doubt they can do so for long."

"But it's been—"

"A month? Two months?" Dietfried cut in. He waved his hand again. "Bah! We were trapped for six months the last time we went to look for the—the tomb of Nefertiti."

Hermione had an inkling of an idea that Dietfried was about to say "the Hallows" and changed it at the last minute. However, she knew better than to press on further about the subject.

"The tomb of Nefertiti?" she asked instead before nodding slowly. "There are plenty of rumors that she herself was a witch, too, right?"

"Rumors, yes. Facts, no," Dietfried answered. "Nobody found any evidence about it because there isn't any left to find."

"So you're saying that she was a witch?"

"Must be," Dietfried replied. "When Albus and I entered her tomb, the traces of magic and nearly every magical object had been cleared out."

"Then it's not the work of normal tomb raiders," Hermione concluded.

"Intelligent young lady," he complimented her as a small smile appeared on his face. "No, not tomb raiders. Perhaps someone was afraid that people might find out that she was a witch."

"Then how did you and Professor Dumbledore know that she was a witch?" asked Hermione.

"Once magic is used, it is impossible to wipe away every last trace," Dietfried replied. "It was a strange signature, but it was there nonetheless, and till this day, Albus and I have not found out who could have done this so secretly and nearly completed it without a trace."

Then, he fell silent, and for a moment, Hermione wondered if Nefertiti had anything to do with the Hallows. But the Invisibility Cloak belonged to the Potters and the Resurrection Stone had been passed down the line of Gaunts … unless Nefertiti owned the Elder Wand before. It would make sense then, since the Elder Wand was a much sought after object. However, then Dumbledore should have known who broke into Nefertiti's grave.

"So most likely, Professor Dumbledore is just withheld, but safe," Hermione said after no answers came up for the new questions in her mind. She doubted Dietfried would be willing to share information about the Hallows if she asked anyway.

"Most likely," Dietfried replied with a nod. He then stood up, and before he left the room, he smiled and reassured her, "I will ask the people near the edge of the forest tomorrow morning. For now, rest and don't worry too much."

~-0-~

"So you've noticed that there's something strange between Hermione and Riddle, too?" Harry asked Ginny as the two of them sat cross-legged on his bed.

Draco, half lying on his bed, rolled his eyes and drawled, "Evans, if someone as dense as you noticed it, then anyone in the world would. Well, perhaps except for Weasel King."

However, his jeers were met by unhearing ears as Harry stood up, anxiety written on every one of his features.

"Then what should we do? We should warn Hermione, shouldn't we? That should put her on the alert," he said.

"Give me a break, Evans. Granger knows who she's dealing with," Draco said, rolling his eyes.

"No, Harry," Ginny replied firmly. "We cannot handle this situation that way. If we do, we're only going to push Hermione further into Riddle's trap."

Harry stared at her. "You think he's doing this on purpose? That he's only doing this to use her?"

"I don't know, but I think we can assume so. It's Tom Riddle after all. There's no saying what he has on his mind. But one thing I can assure you is that if we reprimand her and become overprotective of her, restraining every one of her moves, we're only going to help Riddle and pester away Hermione. I've dealt with him before. I know how he operates, and he'll use each and every weak link that he finds in our friendship."

"But … but what if she really …" Harry stuttered.

"Fancies him?" Draco offered.

Reluctantly, Harry nodded.

"Then we're all doomed," Draco replied.

"And you'll get all the credit, wouldn't you?" Harry shot back angrily.

"Evans, would you please stop jumping at my throat and directly to conclusions without looking at the facts already? Do look at my situation right now and tell me how I'm better off if the Dark Lord gains someone like Hermione on his side," said Draco.

"Who knows? If you were helping him since day one, then you wouldn't have a problem, would you? Everything could have been an act," Harry bit out.

Draco fell silent, and for once, there were not any signs of humor on his face.

"Stop the fighting," Ginny ordered. "You're letting his tactics work. I'm sure he hasn't struck us with his worst yet, and we're already fighting instead of working with each other. We can't let this happen. And yes, Harry," she said when she saw Harry opening his mouth. "I think it's wise to trust Malloy in this situation. Riddle will not be pleased if he found out what the Malfoys did in the last battle, even if Draco were to help him now and cause chaos amongst us."

It was a warning, but it was also the truth, and both Harry and Draco saw it for what it was. The atmosphere in the room softened up, and Harry did not say anything to retort what Ginny had said.

"I think we can trust Hermione. Even if … if she does fall for Riddle, I doubt she would let that cloud up her morals. She's still going to make the right choices. I have faith in her," Ginny declared. "And I think you, Harry, out of all people should have the most trust in her."

"I do trust her. I just don't trust Riddle. I don't want Hermione to get hurt because of that git," Harry said heatedly.

"I know," Ginny answered with a grimace, "but the only person who can help Hermione now is herself, and I do think she's a strong woman. I mean … she even Obliviated her parents in order to prevent You-Know-Who from finding out what you, Ron, and she were doing last year. It's not something someone who's emotionally weak can do. It's going to hurt, but it's not something we can butt into without having horrible consequences."

Harry fell silent and then buried his face in his hands. "I just wished I knew what to do … I just wished there was  _ **something**_  I could do."

"Er … perhaps you could write a book?" Draco spoke up.

Both Ginny and Harry looked at him, confusion written on their faces at his suggestion.

"What are you talking about, Malloy?" Ginny asked.

"Well, you know Hermione. When in doubt, check the library, if you wrote a book …"

And he promptly stopped in his words when the two Gryffindors shot him very annoyed glares. However, before either one of them could give him their two-cents about what they thought about him, a loud crash echoed throughout the house. The three of them took one look at each other and rushed to the door.

~-0-~

Since Hermione had no idea when Ginny would return to their shared room and she did not want to interrupt the two of them—whether they were in a "Harry apologizing" state or in an "I have only eyes for you" state—she decided to go take a bath first. Before she reached the door to the bathroom, however, it swung open, and Ernsta Kaufmann appeared at the doorway, still wearing clothes that clung on to her figure like a second skin.

At first, she did not notice Hermione, since she was still looking backwards, her lips curved upwards.

"I am offended," she said in a teasing tone, followed by a string of German.

An answer also in German responded to her, and without looking, Hermione already knew who was in that bathroom. Immediately, the rage that she had subdued since that morning roared back to life, twice in strength, and she pulled out her wand, pointing it directly at that woman who had closed the door and had finally turned her head around.

"What were you doing in there?" Hermione asked, her voice quiet.

Perhaps it was her experience with Ginny or perhaps it was because Hermione looked simply scary at the moment, but Ernsta unconsciously took a step back, her large eyes widening, making them look disproportionate with the rest of her features.

"I … I was just … giving him towels," Ernsta stuttered, stepping to the side. She involuntarily shuddered when the tip of Hermione's wand followed her movements, never wavering away from her face.

"Giving him towels," Hermione repeated.

Ernsta nodded, and if Hermione were in a better mood, she would have probably found it funny how scared the woman was right now. It suited her a lot better than that disgustingly seductive look she always plastered on to her face when she was looking at Tom or Harry, in Hermione's opinion.

"The five of you just arrived this morning, and we hadn't had the time to place towels inside the bathroom for you. We don't have house-elves to do the job, so Dietfried asked me to bring some into the bathroom," Ernsta explained shakily, her eyes never leaving the wand that was pointing at her.

"And you found it  _ **decent**_  to shut the door while you were placing towels in the bathroom?" Hermione mocked.

"He was undressing," Ernsta said quickly.

However, it only added more fuel to Hermione's anger. Narrowing her eyes, she walked up to the woman and stopped right in front of her face, causing Ernsta to cringe.

"If you touch Tom Marvolo Riddle, Ernsta Kaufmann, you can be assured that cockroaches and bedbugs will be the least of your worries, and I will make what Ginny did to you look like child's play," said Hermione, her voice as cold as her face.

Nodding as if her life depended on it, Ernsta scrambled back to her room and slammed the door shut behind her.

Hermione's gaze fell back on the door leading to the bathroom, and waving her wand, she opened the door, letting it ram into the wall with a loud bang before she lowered her wand to her side and walk up to the door.

Tom, who looked like he had just finished washing his face in front of the sink, turned his head around in surprise. When he saw Hermione glaring at him from the doorway, he raised an eyebrow at her.

"Thanks for knocking," he said.

She did not answer, though the fact that he was still wearing his pants somewhat lifted her mood upwards.

He turned his body around, leaned against the rim of the basin, and crossed his arms over his bare chest.

"Is this some kind of new hobby of yours, Granger? To watch me while I'm bathing?" he asked.

"What was that woman doing in here?" she asked, her voice still quiet. Tom's eyebrow rose

"You mean … Ernsta?" he asked. Propping his chin up with one hand, he looked at Hermione, humor apparent in his eyes as he waited for an answer from her.

"Who else?"

"She was just making sure that we are comfortable with our …  _ **accommodations**_ ," Tom replied.

She knew he was using that word on purpose, and she tried to convince herself to ignore his taunts. However, it was easier said than done. What he said on top of two incidents in a day involving Ernsta made her somewhat alleviated anger from that morning rise back to its previous level again.

"Funny how she just asked  _ **you**_  when there are five of us," she said.

"Perhaps she found it much more comfortable to talk with me," he answered, stroking his chin with his forefinger.

"I'm sure she found it quite comfortable sitting on your lap," Hermione bit out, and her hand clenched and unclenched around her wand.

"Sarcasm doesn't become you, Hermione," he said lightly, dropping his arms to his side and walking up to the tub. Half-sitting on the rim, he placed a single finger inside the water, as if he were testing the temperature of it as his lips curved into a smile. "Did Ernsta falling on top of me really bother you that much?"

"No," she answered, not wanting to give him the satisfaction of having the last laugh.

"Oh?" he asked, keeping his eyes on the water and not looking at her at all. "Then it's rather strange how concerned you are about what happened between me and her."

A twisted smile appeared on Hermione's face. "Who said anything about me being concerned?"

With that, she turned around and was about to step out of the bathroom when his voice sounded again.

"Do kindly close the door behind you."

Gritting her teeth together, she answered, "Of course."

Placing her hand on the door, she took a deep breath, and then, with one swift move, she swung around and threw three consecutive curses at him, altering the direction of each one slightly, so that he was forced to throw himself on the floor to avoid them. The first two impacted the wall, and Hermione thought she felt the floor shudder upon the contact, but she could care less at the moment. The last one crashed into the tub, blasting it into pieces as the water poured all over the floor.

Without giving him the chance to get his wand, Hermione flicked her wand again, and the infamous yew wand flew through the air, directly into her open hand. Therefore, Tom had to duck away with each spell she sent his way. A couple of times, he tried to get close enough to her to grab his wand from her, but she wouldn't allow it. Every time he got within five feet of her, she would throw another couple of curses towards him, forcing him to move backwards again.

_Logic be damned._

She would rather go through another one of Dolohov's curses than allow this prat to strut around with another victory. She was going to curse him if it were the last thing she did.

Later on, after Hermione calmed down, she would remember how Tom looked at the moment and giggle to herself. Lord Voldemort had probably never been in such an awkward position as he was right now. He was only wearing his pants, which was drenched from the water that was previously in the destroyed bathtub, while he half rolled around the floor, dodging the spells Hermione was throwing at him.

And that was the situation Harry, Ginny, and Draco found them in. All three of their mouths dropped open upon seeing Hermione throwing spell after spell at Tom. Although they could not see everything that was happening inside the bathroom, they could already guess from the water that was flowing into the hallway and the occasional hisses of pain from said Dark Lord.

"She's trying to get herself killed," Draco said, an expression of awe and concern on his face.

"He's going to kill her … he's going to murder her and throw her in the forest," Ginny whispered.

Harry did not—or rather, could not—speak. The look of horror on his face spoke enough words to make up for his silence. He was as terrified as he was worried. Knowing Lord Voldemort, Harry could not see any possibility of Hermione getting away with this unharmed. It was simply impossible.

"Sh-shouldn't someone stop her?" Draco stuttered.

Before one of them could do just that, somehow, Tom managed to sidestep Hermione's curses and grab her wandarm.

"Let go of me, you filthy, annoying, disgusting, irritating son of a howling banshee!" Hermione screamed as Tom got a hold of her other arm.

Ginny turned pale when she saw that furious look on Tom's face, and Draco gulped. Harry's hand flew to his wand, but before he could pull it out and save Hermione, Tom had already pulled Hermione into the bathroom.

Harry and Ginny didn't bother to waste the time looking at one another; they stumbled over one another, trying to get there in time to help Hermione out if necessary. Draco stayed one step behind him, but still moved forward, not wanting to miss the opportunity to take a run for it if need be.

However, the scene that met their eyes completely froze them in their spots.

Tom was towering over Hermione, who was pinned against the wall, and snogging her.

The door closed right in Harry, Ginny, and Draco's faces with a flick of the wands Tom had grabbed back from Hermione. When he finally pulled away, Hermione glared at him, digging her fingers into his arms.

"Let go of me, Tom Marvolo Riddle," she said through gritted teeth, not caring about how his eyes had darkened to dangerous levels.

Savage pleasure surged through her, making a maniacal grin appear on her face, when she noticed the slashes and cuts he had gotten from both her spells and pieces of the broken ceramic tub. Served him right, and no way in hell was she going to apologize to him for this. He was asking for it, regardless of what he did.

~-0-~

Harry, Ginny, and Draco stared at the closed door, finally coming back to their senses once the lock snapped shut.

" _Alohomora_ ," Harry immediately tried to cast on the door, concerned about Hermione's safety.

However, nothing happened, moving their anxiety up another notch.

"What are we going to do?" Harry asked, turning his head towards Draco and then Ginny.

Without a spoken answer, they all rushed down the staircase, looking for Dietfried; if there was anyone who could attempt to take control of the situation right now, it would be him. At least he was the owner of the house and could try to order Tom to open the door—the key word being "try."

When they reached the first floor, they found out why Dietfried had not appeared the moment Hermione shattered the bathtub; he was nowhere in sight, and try as they might, they could not find him.

"He's not home," Harry concluded. "He's not home."

The urge to curse out loud was overwhelming, and without a second word, he ran outside.

"What is he doing?" Draco asked, staring at the doorway through which Harry had disappeared through.

However, Ginny did not answer him. Instead, she went after Harry, so Draco had no other choice but to follow them. By the time they caught up with Harry, he had already broken through the Kaufmann's toolshed and was holding onto a broomstick.

"Wait here," Harry ordered. Without waiting for an answer, he mounted himself onto the broom and rose up in the air.

"Do you see anything?" Draco called out.

Looking downwards, Harry held his finger to his lips, signaling for them to keep quiet. As quietly as he could, he flew past the windows, looking for the one that led to the bathroom. When he found it, he hovered as close as he could to it.

Hermione was talking, but Harry could not hear a peep of what they were saying. Pulling out his wand, Harry was prepared to attempt another  _Alohomora_  at the window. Before he could, however, Tom glanced at him from the corner of his eye. With a flick of the yew wand, the window blurred, preventing Harry from seeing anything at all.

When he touched back to the ground, Ginny and Draco immediately ran up to him.

"Did you see anything?" Draco asked.

"Is Hermione alright? Did he hurt her?" Ginny asked.

"I don't know," Harry answered, running a hand through his hair. "He cast a spell on the window when he caught me looking, and I know  _Alohomora_ is not going to work on it."

"Merlin …" Draco muttered, scrubbing his face with his hands. "She's doomed. He's going to kill her. He's going to torture  _ **and**_  kill her. I knew this was going to happen, I just knew this was going to happen. And I  _ **warned**_  her about this …"

"Well perhaps you should have tried harder," Harry snapped.

"I've told you what was going on, but did you take my words seriously? No! You thought I was being ridiculous and told me off, if you don't remember correctly, that same day I got tortured by Riddle," Draco said, his cheeks flushed from anger.

"Would you two stop it already?" Ginny interrupted before Harry could say something. "We have to find a way to help Hermione right now, not try to guilt-trip one another. I've told you this already, or are the two of you so desperate to let Riddle get his way?"

The two of them fell silent, but Ginny's words did not stop them from occasionally glaring at one another, as if the other were the one at fault.

Nonetheless, even without arguing, they still could not think of a way to help Hermione except waiting for Dietfried to return.

~-0-~

After Tom set up the necessary wards to prevent Harry from entering the bathroom, he turned back to Hermione.

The witch in question looked right back at him with anger. There was nothing she liked to do better now than to poke every one of wounds she had previously inflicted on him, just to cause him more pain. Perhaps sprinkle some salt and chili over them, too, and if she could help it, throw a few more curses at him. However, it was impossible right now, since he had her up against the wall, and both wands were securely in the hand that was not holding on to her wrists.

A muttered incantation left his mouth, and a rope dropped down from the ceiling. Like a snake, the rope coiled around her wrists and tied them together before dragging her to the middle of the bathroom.

"What are you doing?" Hermione demanded out of surprise more than fear.

He did not answer. Instead, he spoke again in that sibilant language which she did not understand.

And then, she felt it.

It appeared that the curse he had placed on her to prevent her from speaking about the Chamber had not been completely taken off her, and the snakes were now slowly moving again. She bit down on her lower lip, remembering quite well how painful it had been when the snakes' venom was in her body. She had no desire to go through that again, but neither did she want to apologize to him.

However, she waited for a while, and the snakes still did not bite down on her. Suddenly, she jumped when the snake slithered past a rather sensitive area around her waist while the other's tongue flickered out and touched that ticklish area right below her ear.

Conjuring an armchair, Tom sat down right in front of her, speculating her.

"I'm not going to tolerate your impertinence anymore, Hermione," he said.

"I could say the same exact thing," she replied, trying to stop herself from giggling.

The snakes seemed to know exactly what path to travel to make her feel the least comfortable, and in her opinion, this unable-to-scratch-itchy kind of feeling was loads worse than pain.

"But unfortunately, you'll never be in the position to carry out the necessary punishments," said Tom.

Standing up from the chair, he circled around until he was standing right behind her. With a snap of his fingers, she was lifted slightly off the ground and her shoes and socks disappeared. Seconds later, the snakes started slithering across the soles of her feet. She rubbed her feet together, trying to get rid of that ticklish feeling but to no avail.

"And I can be very creative when it comes down to disciplining you, dearest," he said, "which, of course, means ways that are not along the same line as the Cruciatus Curse." He stopped in front of her and tilted her chin up with a single finger. "I doubt you could say the same."

Walking back to the chair and sitting back down, he flicked his wand again, and suddenly, on top of the feeling of snakes gliding across her skin, she started to feel another type of ticklish sensation. She frantically looked downwards and turned her head around to check her back, expecting to find bugs crawling over her body, but found nothing. That made her somewhat relieved, but her discomfort grew with each second that passed, and started to twist her body around, hoping that it would reduce the irritation.

"It's not going to work, Hermione," said Tom in a taunting voice.

Forcing out a short laugh, she said, "Is that the best you could do?"

Raising an eyebrow, Tom crossed her arms over his chest again and looked at her with amusement. "Do keep talking, Hermione. The longer you talk, the longer I'll keep you here."

"For your information, this is Herr Dietfried's house and not your room or the Chamber of Secrets."

He raised an eyebrow and a glint of humor entered his eyes. "Shouldn't you have remembered that when you were throwing random spells at me?"

A blush tinged Hermione's cheeks red, and she tilted her head upwards. "The things that were broken could be easily fixed.

A mocking smirk appeared curved the corners of his lips upwards, and he flicked his wand at himself, healing the wounds that had been inflicted on him. However, one particularly nasty one would not go away, regardless of what he did. He frowned as he examined the gash, and Hermione grinned, knowing it would not go away without a proper potion. To her surprise, the frown on his face turned into a faint smile.

"Dabbling with the Dark Arts, aren't we, Hermione?" he asked softly.

"Not so dark when compared to the person it was used on," she retorted, and one of the snakes flicked its tongue out at the back of her neck, causing her muscles to involuntarily twitch.

He leaned back in the chair and crossed his feet at his ankles. "Seems like you're enjoying yourself since you're still rather … rude. No matter. We'll see if that mouth of yours is still as sharp after fifteen minutes, shan't we?"

He had to be kidding her. She would like to see him hanging in the middle of air with the feeling of ants and snakes crawling all over him. Then again, he probably wouldn't find it bothersome, since he was used to snakes slithering around him anyway.

True to his words, he kept her there for fifteen minutes, until her body was completely out of her control and twitching almost in sync to the movements of the invisible ants. Now, on top of the itching, she had to put up with the soreness that was developing in all her muscles.

 _Doesn't he have better things to do than this?_  She thought to herself.

"Oh no. It's quite entertaining waiting to see what kind of strange angles your body can twist itself into while being under my curse," Tom said.

She had not forgotten that she should put up her guards. However, it was impossible to keep it up in her current condition. The itchiness was driving her insane, and she wanted nothing more than to scratch the places where the invisible snakes and bugs had crawled over.

After another five minutes, he finally flicked his wand, and the rope and the strange feelings on her body both disappeared. Stopping right next to her, he vanished the armchair before looking back at her.

"I'm giving you a warning, Hermione. My patience is waning. Learn your place before I'm forced to teach it to you," he said quietly before turning around and heading towards the door.

Despite the pain in her limbs, she still scrambled on to her feet and ran towards him. Hermione knew he did not have eyes behind his head, but he somehow managed to catch her arm before her fist made contact with the back of his head, and he swirled them around, slamming her hard into the door. The back of  _ **her**_  head took the brunt of the impact, and she would have rubbed it if her wrists were not currently withheld by Tom.

"You are the most relentless, impudent witch I had ever known in my life," he growled.

"Deal with it," she snapped, her eyes blazing.

He did not answer, but the flame in his eyes indicated that his fury had just been pushed up another notch.

It appeared that they were going to stay in that bathroom for quite some time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **A/N** : Many thanks to catcachoo (from PI) and Nerys for beta-ing the chapter! 


	41. Chapter 41

**Chapter 41**

It was nearly midnight before their "conversation" ended with a stalemate, and when Hermione opened the door and stepped through the doorway, she found herself at the end of two wands.

"Hermione," Ginny breathed out, relieved, before immediately lowering her wand and throwing her arms around Hermione. "We were so worried about you."

"Did he do anything to you?" Harry asked in a hushed but worried voice after Ginny released her.

"Other than snogging you," Draco muttered on the side.

Silence followed his words, and even Draco seemed uncomfortable about the fact that he had been the one to open the can of worms. A suspicious shade of red tinged his cheeks, and Ginny averted her eyes, looking at the wall instead of Hermione. Harry scratched the back of his head with his eyebrows furrowed, and the frown deepened when Tom appeared at the doorway next to Hermione.

"What did you do to her?" Harry demanded, his eyes hardening.

Tom's arm suddenly snaked around Hermione's waist as he raised an eyebrow at Harry's question, as if he were asking the obvious. Frantically, Hermione tried to struggle out of his hold but to no avail, and her angry glare was answered by an infuriating grin.

And the man had the audacity to  ** _wink_**  at her.

Although they had seen Tom and her snogging, she still felt uncomfortable letting them see her in such a position with him. It just didn't seem right.

Nonetheless, both Hermione and Tom were surprised when Harry showed no emotions towards Tom's moves. With a start, she opened her mouth, not wanting him to hate her because of what happened—even if she felt that he did have a very good reason to despise her.

"Harry, I—" she began to say but was interrupted by Harry.

"I think we should talk about this after we return to Hogwarts," he said, his eyes softening when he turned his attention back to Hermione.

Hermione bit her lower lip and nodded. After all, none of them wanted to make a scene out of it in front of Tom, and too many things concerning the future might come out during their "conversation." She kept her eyes on her friends with caution, and her worries were slightly alleviated when none of them were looking at her with hateful or disgusted expressions.

It was then that she realized exactly how much she cared about the approval of her friends. The moment Harry gave her an encouraging smile, on top of gratefulness, guilt crashed down on Hermione, and she almost wanted to apologize to him right then and there. She wanted to explain to him and reassure to him that no matter what happened between her and Tom, she would never, ever betray him.

However, he spoke before she could open her mouth, and his next words both made Tom's body tense and made her appreciate her choice to become Harry Potter's friend.

"Don't worry," Harry said with a nod, the smile still on his face. "I trust you."

~-0-~

Although they found it strange that Dietfried hadn't returned home last night, their curiosity was spiked when Draco told them that Ernsta considered it normal for their host to disappear for a few nights in a row.

"And she has no idea where he's gone," Draco said in a low voice as he, Harry, Ginny, and Hermione gathered around the fireplace.

Hermione was more than glad that they had finally gotten a time to sit down and talk without Tom eavesdropping on the side. Throughout the entire morning, he had made it a point to annoy the other three time travelers by being intimately close with her. However, his efforts had been thwarted by the fact that none of them seemed the least bit bothered. Hermione would have laughed if she had not been the reluctant accomplice of his botched up attempts.

Nonetheless, she hadn't seen Tom after lunch. So, she assumed that he was either hiding in some corner or his room blaming his failures on Harry (as usual) or plotting some other stupid stunts to get a rise out of her friends.

"Where do you think Dietfried is?" Ginny asked.

"Ernsta might be lying about where he is," Harry said.

Hermione shook her head. "I don't think so, if you're suggesting that she killed him. Why would she do that? I doubt she would murder her husband out of the blue."

"It's actually not that abnormal," Draco said slowly. "Remember what I was saying the other day? Well—" He leaned towards them. "—Abraxas mentioned to me that Ernsta married three different men before she married Kaufmann, and all three of them died."

"And I doubt it's because of natural causes, if you're being so secretive about this," Hermione said.

"Nobody could prove that she killed them, but she didn't seem quite upset to see them go," Draco replied with a shrug.

"You better be careful then, since you're the only one she dares to speak with now," Ginny said with a smirk. "The future heir to endless gold … you seem like a perfect catch for her."

"That is if we do get home," Draco reminded her.

"At least she's giving you all the attention now," Harry chortled.

After last night, Ernsta apparently labeled Hermione and Ginny as "extremely dangerous," since she would run the other way whenever she saw the two of them. Much to Hermione and Ginny's pleasure, she also kept her hands off Tom and Harry. Therefore, the only person whom she would talk to was Draco, though she did not seem to be “romantically” interested in him.

"Getting jealous now, Potty? Perhaps you wish to go into the storage room with her again?" Draco retorted, effectively halting Harry's laugh.

"I think this should be our main concern right now," Hermione cut in before the two young men could start arguing with one another again. "What are we going to do now? Herr Dietfried was going to ask around for us, but the only information we have right now is that Dumbledore went into the forest."

"Then we enter the forest," Harry suggested.

"Nobody came out of that forest alive, Harry," Hermione quickly added.

"Count me out," Draco said.

"Sure, we'll leave you to Riddle's care. I'm sure he would be enthusiastic about that," Ginny replied.

"Dumbledore's our only hope to go back home, and he got into all of this because of us. We can't just walk away when we've finally found some leads about where he is," Harry said.

After a short pause, Hermione spoke up, "If you're going in there, we're all going with you, Harry." When she saw both Harry and Draco open their mouths, she added, "No ifs, ands, or buts. We're all in this together, and we're all going into that forest together."

"What about Riddle?" Draco spoke up.

"What about him?" Harry asked.

"Wouldn't he get angry if we left without him?" An unsure expression appeared on Draco's face as a small shiver ran through his body.

"Did you really think he was here to save Dumbledore? He wouldn't give a troll's snot about Dumbledore's safety," Harry replied.

"And you can always say that you were worried for  ** _his_**  safety if he asks," Ginny sniggered.

Leaving a short notice on the tea table for the Kaufmanns, just in case they looked for them, Harry, Ginny, Hermione, and Draco headed out towards the direction Dietfried had pointed out to Harry the previous day.

Since it was past midday, there were many villagers strolling through the streets. Along the way, they stopped at some shops to pick up necessary equipment, such as some canned foods and tents. They learned it the hard way not to mention where they were heading towards after the first shop lady. The woman's mouth dropped open and refused to sell them anything, pleading them to return home.

"Can't we go tomorrow morning? It's getting late now … what if there are werewolves?" Draco whimpered after they hurried out of the shop.

"Then we can tell them how friendly you are with Greyback," Ginny replied.

It might have been because they had heard too many negative things about it, but shivers ran down their backs the moment they stepped into the premises of the forest. For some strange, unknown reason, though the villagers seemed frightened about the prospect of entering the forest, there was no one guarding the path that led into it.

"It's because they're all too frightened. Did you see the look on that boy's face when he saw us walking this way?" Draco asked when Harry mentioned it.

"Let's go," Harry said instead, moving forward.

"Shouldn't we at least figure out which direction to look in?" Draco asked, hurrying after them and casting unsure looks around the woods.

"I doubt anyone followed Dumbledore in here," Hermione replied with a sigh.

"We'd have to try our luck," Harry said.

"And possibly get lost in here?" An alarmed look appeared on Draco's face.

"Unless you have a better idea," said Hermione, "other than going back to the Kaufmanns' house."

Draco opened and closed his mouth a few times, but when nothing came out, they continued walking further into the forest. Perhaps he figured that it was not a good idea to piss off the Gryffindor witches, since he did not make any objections afterwards. However, he always made sure to stay right behind Harry.

"You've even survived the Dark Lord. Merlin knows that you'd get through anything alive," he answered when Harry told him to quit following him around.

Hermione wanted to ask him if he knew how Dobby died but decided against it, since Harry would undoubtedly start feeling guilty about it again.

"Do we at least have any general idea where we are?" Draco asked after a while.

They stopped in their footsteps, and it was then that Hermione realized that they had wandered off path. There was no longer any signs of the village, and besides the footsteps they had left behind, there were no other paths. Tall evergreen trees, covered with snow, surrounded them and covered the steep upward slope to their left. The down slope to their right was more gradual, but their sight was still hindered by the forest. An out-of-place tall lump of snow sat a small distance away from them in the only area that had not been taken over by trees.

"Does that seem strange to you?" Harry turned around and looked at Hermione.

"Very," she admitted, keeping her eyes on the small hill of snow.

Despite Draco's objections, they still made their way towards it, helping one another over more difficult areas. At the edge of their destination, Ginny lost her footing and nearly fell if Harry hadn't been holding onto her. They then realized that it was not a hill but a cave. With a flick of her wand, Hermione melted away the snow in front of entrance. It turned out that the path leading to the cave sloped steeply downwards, and more than half of it was lower than the grounds surrounding it.

"It's more like a burrow than a cave," Draco muttered.

"Excuse me?" Ginny snapped.

Thankfully, Draco remained quiet, and each of them withdrew their wands before entering the cave.

The inside was a lot bigger than it seemed. They walked for nearly three minutes, and they were nowhere near the end of it yet. The further they walked into the cave, the darker it became, until their only sources of light came from their wands. Jagged rocks were scattered all over the floor, making the trip tiresome and painful when they stepped on a particularly sharp rock. Draco kept his complaints to himself, only grunting when he accidentally stepped on something, and even that stopped when Hermione discovered a patch of blood on the floor.

"I think we should go back," Draco suggested, his face paler than usual.

The sound of something falling on the floor stopped whatever answer Harry was going to give him, and they stood still, wondering if they stood a chance against whatever was at the end of the cave. When nothing came out of the dark and attacked them, Hermione took another step forward and was forced to stop when she took in the scene in front of her.

It appeared that they had reached the end of the cave.

If the weather was not as cold as it was, she was sure that the cave would have stunk of rotten flesh and blood. The walls were painted in a grotesque shade of red.

 _Dried blood_ , a voice in her mind told her.

Piles and piles of bones decorated the floor, some of them cracked open while others still had strands of flesh attached to them. She momentarily wondered in disgust and horror if the humans were killed by being thrown on the walls before being eaten by the monsters.

"Let's get out of here," Harry said after finally finding his voice. The panic in his voice was apparent, and she was sure it was, too, on her face.

Before they could move, Hermione noticed something moving amongst the bones.

"Wait."

Slowly, she walked towards where she saw the movements, and screams echoed through the cave when a hand came out of nowhere, grasping feebly at thin air. After calming down, she bent down and moved the bones aside with a flick of her wand. To her surprise, there were not one but two survivors underneath.

Upon seeing this, Harry and Ginny hurried over to help Hermione carry them out. Once the two young men were placed on the floor, Hermione proceeded to heal some of the wounds to the best of her abilities. However, there was nothing she could do for the dark-haired young man's broken leg except casting a spell on it to numb the pain. They would have to find a Healer back in the village to completely fix it. He did seem to be in a better condition than the other young man, who looked like he was having some difficulty in breathing normally.

"What are they doing here? I thought villagers didn't dare to come in here," Draco said.

"I have no idea. We'd have to levitate them back to the village," Hermione said. "There's no other way they can make it back there under this condition."

"Shouldn't we get going immediately then? Who knows when that thing that did this to them will return?" Draco asked frantically.

He was unwilling to round up the end, so he ended up levitating the blond-haired young man while Hermione levitated the dark-haired one. Harry and Ginny walked ahead of them, their wands at the ready for any signs of monsters.

"What?" Draco suddenly asked in front of her, and he leaned towards his charge. "What are you trying to say?"

The others stopped and concentrated on what the young man was trying to say.

"Trolls," the wizard Hermione was caring for replied instead, and the four of them looked at him instead.

"Trolls?" Draco repeated, alarm written all over his face.

They would have been more surprised about the fact that the survivors spoke English instead of German if they weren't now worried that there were more than one troll living in the cave.

"How many are there?" Hermione asked.

"Six, full-grown," the dark-haired young man asked, closing his eyes in tiredness.

"How in the world did six trolls move in here without the villagers knowing?" Ginny asked.

"I have no idea, but we'd better get out of here. Now," Harry said.

"Can't we Apparate back to the village?" Draco asked as they started moving again.

"They're too weak for it and might get Splinched if we try," Hermione answered, shaking her head. "What kind of trolls are they?" she asked her charge.

"Forest, sub-breed."

"There are sub-breeds of trolls?" Harry asked from ahead.

"Yes. The forest trolls around this region are supposed to be smarter than the average troll. They're sub-breeds of the regular forest trolls you see in other areas, but much, much more intelligent," Hermione answered. "The snow outside was probably done on purpose then, to prevent the prisoners from escaping while they're gone, and they've probably gone out to find more victims."

This kind of forest trolls was exclusive to Europe and was known to be slightly shorter than mountain trolls. The actual height of these creatures could not be estimated since they were hardly ever captured.

"What if it was a trap all along? And they're outside waiting for us?" Draco asked, alarmed.

However, none of them could answer him. They could only wish that they had not already become the targets of the forest trolls. It certainly did not help that their minds found it the perfect moment to play tricks on them. The light from the tips of their wands cast eerie shadows on the walls and would sometimes bounce off the dried blood on the walls and ground, creating the image of something moving.

She let out a sigh of relief when they walked out of the cave and was about to speak when something jumped out of nowhere and landed on Draco's charge. Draco let out a yell and threw a curse at it, but to their surprise, it had no effect on it. Before Harry, Ginny, and Hermione could cast a spell at it, it disappeared into the trees behind the cave.

"Where did it go?" Harry asked, looking wildly in all directions.

"It's hiding in the trees. It hasn't gone far yet," Ginny replied, keeping her eyes on the direction the troll had disappeared in.

Hermione held her breath when she looked at Draco's charge. Blood was spilling out of his head, and he didn't seem to be breathing. Crouching down, Hermione checked for his pulse with shaking hands. For a moment, she remained frozen next to the now dead body.

"Is … is he alright?" the dark-haired wizard asked, now sitting on the snow.

Drawing in a deep breath, Hermione shook her head. "I'm sorry."

"No … no … Friedrich!" he yelled, pulling himself over to his friend. "Friedrich! Wake up!"

She was about to comfort him, but then her attention was caught by movement in the trees behind him. She pulled out her wand and was about to cast a spell when Ginny screamed on the side.

"HERMIONE!"

She whirled around just in time to see a troll spring towards her, but before she could close her eyes and wait for her death, a flash of purple collided with the troll, striking it right on its side and successfully stopping it from landing on Hermione. She swiveled her head around, and her gaze landed on a familiar figure in black robes, standing behind her where she had seen movement just moments before, with his wand extended.

"Voldemort," Harry whispered on the side, and Hermione was glad that grunts of the trolls surrounding them were enough to cover up his words.

However, she could not deny that that was the name that went through her mind the moment she registered who had saved her life. Standing a few feet away from them was the Dark Lord, concentration making his features colder and harsher than usual as he stared at the trolls.

 _He was following us_ , was the next thought that went through her mind.

His dark eyes met with her brown ones before flashing over her body. When he was satisfied with her condition, he turned his attention back to the trolls.

Growls came from all directions, as if they were standing in the middle of a cage full of wild animals, and Hermione's skin crawled when she realized that they were surrounded. Four of the trolls, including the one that had been thrown back by Tom's curse, were in plain view since there were fewer trees around the cave. One of them crouched on top of the cave and boxed them in with the other three. The other two came in and out of view as they dodged around in the trees that surrounded the cave.

The trolls were a lot shorter than a mountain troll and somehow reminded Hermione of a cross between a troll and an armadillo. Its features looked like that of a troll but some sort of armor grew on its body.

"Normal hexes won't work on them," the young man they had saved from the cave told them as he, too, took out his wand. "It's going to be a matter of time before they capture us. Escape while I distract them."

"Don't be an idiot. As if they'd sit around and attack you once they see us running for it," Draco said, panic apparent on his face and in his voice.

"And we're not leaving you here by yourself," Hermione added. "We didn't save you from there to do that."

"I appreciate it, but it's not going to work," he said, giving her a bitter smile. "We came here with ten people, but Friedrich and I …"

"What are we going to do?" Draco asked.

Hermione looked at the trolls before glancing at Tom, who was now standing next to her. His eyes were still on the trolls that were hiding in the trees.

"Apparition," he replied.

"We can't. He's too weak for that," Hermione said, casting a Shield Charm when one of the trolls started charging towards them.

The troll collided with the ward and bounced backwards. However, no apparent harm had been done to it.

Annoyance flashed through Tom's face. "Bloody Gryffindors," he muttered before slicing the air with his wand and sending a bluish ray of light towards one of the trolls.

The spell forced the troll backwards, but otherwise, it seemed unharmed.

"It's useless! They've attacked wizards before, and they know we're going to get tired from using spells," the injured young man hissed at them.

"Aren't there any spells we can use?" Draco asked on the side, casting a spell at a troll that lunged at him. The troll crashed into a tree and landed on the ground, but within seconds it was up again, snarling and grunting at them.

"I've tried most of the spells I know, but they just rebound off their armor," the young man answered.

"Stupefy them together," Tom said to Hermione in a low voice. "Two Stunners combined might take one of them down."

Hermione bit her lower lip and nodded.

" _Stupefy_!" they both cast at the same time towards the troll closest to them.

The creature emitted a bloodcurdling screech as it flew through the air and crashed into a gigantic tree trunk. When it did not move, the growls of the remaining forest trolls became louder, and they started to pounce on the witches and wizards. In contrast to their previous tactics, the trolls no longer waited for them to think. Once the creatures stood up after been thrown off by a spell, they charged again, waiting for the chance to break through their wall of defense. After a while, Hermione could feel the strength of her spell weakening, but the trolls did not seem to be affected at all.

"Concentrate on firing together," Tom commanded.

Anger and determination seeped through his façade of nonchalance, and Hermione knew that it was for different reasons. On the one hand, he was angry that he was being bested by five forest trolls. On the other hand, he could not afford to use the Dark Arts with a stranger in their midst; she doubted he would have hesitated if the injured young man wasn't there.

With a sinking heart, Hermione noticed that the troll she and Tom had Stupefied together was regaining conscious as it stirred on its spot.

"Tom," she alerted him, nodding towards the creature as she and Draco fired at a troll together.

Tom's gaze hardened when it landed on the wakening troll, but he did not say anything.

"We can't keep going on like this. They're going to tire us out before we find a way to escape," the injured young man said, a look of agony appearing on his face.

With a grimace, Hermione realized that the numbing effect she had placed on his leg was receding, but she did not have the extra time to cast another one on him. The trolls were charging towards them at too fast of a pace.

" _Protego_!" Harry and Tom shouted at the same time, and with a start, Hermione realized that they had cast together, in the same direction.

Her mind didn't even have the chance to wonder if something was going to go wrong. The moment the spells left Tom and Harry's wands and met, a silvery-gold ward expanded around them, throwing the trolls much further back than they had before. Both Tom and Harry stared at the result in surprise before they glanced at one another, and the ward immediately disintegrated into nothingness.

"Watch out!" Ginny screamed as a dark figure landed on top of Harry.

Tom and Hermione immediately cast simultaneous spells at the troll, but it bounded away before the spells could hit him.

"Malloy!" Ginny yelled, causing Hermione to glance to the side.

With horror, she found Draco unconscious, and both he and the injured young man were being pulled away by two of the trolls. As if on cue, Hermione and Ginny cast an  _Incendio_ , which surrounded everyone, including the trolls, in a circle of fire. The trolls that captured Draco and the injured young man halted in their steps, but they did not release their hold on their victims.

Just when Hermione thought that all hope was lost for the two of them, the clouds above them darkened at an impossible rate, and before they knew what was happening, a bolt of energy crashed down on them. The last thing she heard before she lost consciousness was the loud thuds of her friends falling to the ground beside her.

And then all was black.

~-0-~

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **A/N** : Huge thanks to my betas, catcachoo (from PI) and Nerys! 


	42. Chapter 42

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **A/N** : I don't want to put a specific date of when this happens, so … sometimes in Somewhere in Time. The plotline of Somewhere in Time can do without this chapter since it's a special chapter. **This chapter is not a continuation of the original plot.**  Just something … er … fluffy and somewhat random (at least at a certain point, with reason) for the Christmas spirit. As fluffy as Serp can get that is, but just in case, if you don't enjoy fluffiness and randomness, then please skip this chapter. ;)
> 
> ~-0-~

**Chapter 42 – Christmas Special Chapter**

The storm finally slowed down after days of piling layers and layers of snow on the sidewalk. Flurries still descended, but at least one could easily see if someone was coming the other way—providing that the other person was not a dwarf or goblin.

However, there were no worries in that regard. Most people were at home, ready to celebrate. Even the stores down in Knockturn Alley followed this tradition and remained closed.

Borgin and Burkes was no different. Though the owner of the store suffered an aggravating loss just a few days ago, he knew it would be pointless keeping the shop open. Anyone visiting his store during these days would only attract the attention of the Aurors. Inside the store, a feeling of darkness not caused by the lack of candlelight hung in the air, and the silence only added to its sinister touch.

Suddenly, a soft sound like that of fabric ripping broke through the quietness, and out of the middle of nowhere, a tear accompanied by a flash of light appeared in the center of the store. Closely following were four loud thumps and groans from the objects that fell through the crack.

As quickly as the hole had appeared, it disappeared.

"Where are we? Did it work?" Harry was the first to ask as he helped Ginny up.

"No idea," Draco moaned. "Hopefully, we're near St. Mungo's though."

"Quit exaggerating, Malloy," Harry said, knowing that Draco wasn't as hurt as he was making it seem.

Hermione sat up in her position and looked around. As she did, a sinking feeling appeared in the pit of her stomach.

"Borgin and Burkes," she whispered.

"Borgin and—" Harry stopped in his words. "So it worked?"

However, Hermione could not answer him as the sense of loss continued to expand until it engulfed her.

"We're back in the future?" Draco asked, stopping his act and sitting up, too.

Without a second word, he jumped up and ran behind the counter. Taking out a large book, he started flipping through it until he got to a certain page. Joy radiated from his face when he looked up at them again.

"We're home … We're back … It worked! We're back in the future again!" he shouted.

Harry and Ginny shared a look with one another before running over to where Draco was.

Hermione remained sitting on the floor, a numb feeling spreading throughout her body as the truth hit her like a well-placed Stunner. She could not even find a tiny piece of joy in her to bring a smile to her face to show her friends.

Because she was never going to see  ** _him_**  again.

~-0-~

It turned out that they had arrived on the morning of Christmas Eve. Harry and Ginny immediately wanted to go back to the Burrow to check up on everyone. After all, they were missing for a few days already, and the Weasleys must be worried sick about them. Draco, of course, had to reassure his parents that he didn't get captured by some rogue Death Eater.

Harry and Ginny wanted to convince Hermione to go with them to the Burrow, but Hermione was not in the mood. If she were to go visit the Weasleys, that meant that she would have to face Ron. She really did not think she was ready to do that just yet. So instead, she told them that she needed to visit her parents first. Harry and Ginny must have noticed that she was down, since they did not insist for her to come with them. Before they Apparated to the Burrow, Ginny released Harry's hand and gave Hermione a hug.

"Everything will be alright," Ginny whispered to her.

Hermione wanted to smile and nod. However, she could not find the will to do so. Therefore, she did not answer, choosing to remain silent and hugging Ginny back. After watching them Apparate away, Hermione Apparated to her parents' house. Her sorrow was temporarily washed away when she saw her parents safe and sound. Her parents did not realize her absence, seeing that her visits home had been few and far in between before she got sent back in the past anyway. Instead, they were much more surprised to find her at their door on Christmas Eve.

Sitting on her bed, Hermione looked out the window, and the empty feeling returned again, double in its strength.

She should be happy. She should be celebrating with her friends. She shouldn't be …  ** _wallowing in sadness_**. The phrase in itself made her cringe, but she knew it was exactly what she was doing.

Shaking her head, she decided that she couldn't just sit here and let it bring her down. She ran down the stairs to the kitchen where her parents were working on Christmas dinner.

"Is there anything I can help with?" Hermione asked.

"Now, now, Hermione. No magic allowed on Christmas," Anthony Granger said with a wink at his daughter.

"Fine," Hermione said, tilting her head higher and accepting the challenge. "The Granger tradition can never be worn away with a few years of Hogwarts."

It turned out to be the right decision. Her parents hadn't expected her to stay for dinner, since she had not done so for years, so they were ecstatic when she told them the good news. Laughter soon rang throughout the kitchen, and Hermione had no idea who started it, but the three of them started to throw chunks of batter at one another. When they finally settled down, half of the cookie batter was either stuck on the wall, counters, or floor.

Sarah took one look at their "masterpiece" and sighed. "What a fine way to spend Christmas day."

"I'll help you clean it up later, Mum," Hermione said with a grin.

And she knew just how glad her mother was for a chance to spend alone time with her daughter. A sense of guiltiness nearly made her cringe, and without thinking, Hermione stepped forward and hugged Sarah.

"I love you, Mum," she whispered.

For a moment, Sarah did not know how to react, and she had no idea where this sudden display of emotions came from. After all, she had no idea what Hermione had to go through for the past few months. For a while, Hermione thought that she would never see them again. When the initial surprise passed, Sarah wrapped her arms around Hermione and hugged her back.

"I love you, too, dear."

~-0-~

In time, their feast was finally prepared. After throwing a few more logs into the fireplace, Hermione returned to the dining table. Right when they were about to dig in, the doorbell rang.

"Is someone else coming?" Hermione asked.

"I don't know," Anthony replied as Sarah went to open the door. "I was thinking you invited your friends over …"

Sarah reentered the kitchen, a strange look on her face.

"Hermione, did you invite a friend over?"

Hermione blinked. As far as she knew, Harry and Ginny were at the Weasleys, and they would have traveled here by Floo powder. And Draco … well, she doubted he was one to ring a doorbell. He would probably be amused by the thought of frightening her Muggle parents and would simply Apparate right into her parents' living room.

"No, I didn't. Who's at the door?" she asked.

 _Please don't let it be Ron_.

The thought came unbidden to her mind, and she should feel bad that that was what came to mind. Yet, she knew she was not ready to face him now.

"A young man," Sarah replied, and Hermione could not help but blink again when she thought she saw a faint pinkish tinge appear on her mother's cheeks. "He says he's your friend."

Hermione raised her eyebrows. No matter how much she tried, she could not guess who was at the door. Nonetheless, she felt relieved knowing that it was not Ron; her Mum would have recognized him.

Her steps halted when she saw who was at the doorway. Emotions crashed down on her as she took in that familiar face and figure. However, when the moment passed, she pulled out her wand and cast wards on the way leading to the dining room. They might not stop him, but at least she tried.

"I'll be back in a sec, Mum," she called before adding a  _Muffliato_  to the wall of spells. Then she turned back and looked at the young man standing at the doorway through narrowed eyes. " ** _What_** are you doing here?"

"Am I not welcomed?" Tom Marvolo Riddle asked, raising an eyebrow.

Hermione opened and closed her mouth a couple of times before deciding what to say. "You're not supposed to be here. You're supposed to be dead, or back in the past, or  ** _something_**  but definitely not here."

"The way you're saying it, it's almost as if you wished I were dead," Tom said, not answering her question and feigning a hurt look on his face.

"You're  ** _supposed_**  to be dead," Hermione repeated herself. "And I doubt Lord Voldemort knows how to travel through time."

_Or else he would've tried killing Harry a million times already … and failing, naturally._

"Hm … I have no idea," Tom replied to her, and she had the distinct feeling that he was lying. "One moment I was there and the next moment I'm here."

"Quit lying, Tom Marvolo Riddle," said Hermione, rolling her eyes to the ceiling. "You need to polish your lying skills if you thought that I was going to fall for that kind of pretense."

A faint smile appeared on Tom's face as he took a step forward. Without thinking, Hermione raised her wand and pointed it directly at him.

"You're acting as if I might go in and kill your  ** _Muggle_**  parents," he said.

"That's not all that hypothetical," Hermione answered.

Her words earned a chuckle from him.

"It's Christmas, Hermione."

"All the better reason for me to remain cautious. I'm sure nothing delights you more than a Christmas day massacre," she said wryly.

"You hurt me, Hermione," he said, holding his hand up to his heart though his eyes twinkled in amusement.

"Oh, grow up, Riddle," she huffed.

He shrugged his shoulders and leaned against the doorway. "It's a couple of days till my birthday. I can wait till then."

Hermione heaved a sigh and shook her head in defeat.

"Now, why don't we go inside and have dinner? I smell mincemeat pies," he said, looking towards the dining room.

~-0-~

She tried to stop him. She really, really did. However, nobody (except Harry) stopped Tom Marvolo Riddle from getting what he wanted, and somehow, he was now sitting in the middle of her parents' dining room right next to her. And  ** _somehow_** , he managed to charm her parents. Well, it probably was not as hard she had made it seem. After all, her parents had no idea that he was the same Lord Voldemort who had tried to kill her and her friends a million times over the past few years.

She wasn't really  ** _that_**  surprised to find her mother giggly in his presence, since she had seen too many females being enchanted by Tom in the past. What she really could have never guessed was her father's apparent liking of Lord Voldemort. She recalled the day when she first told her father that she was dating Ron; Anthony nearly burned a hole through the roof that day. Still, here he was now, chatting with Tom and laughing at some witty comment Tom made while they were having pudding. He'd even allowed Tom to call him "Anthony," which made Hermione roll her eyes at the obvious difference in treatments her father gave to Ron and Tom. She would not be all that shocked if her father boxed Ron's ears if the redhead dared to call him "Anthony."

"Is something the matter, dear?" Sarah asked, alerting the attention of both Tom and Anthony.

"… No," she answered, keeping her eyes on the young man sitting next to her.

To tell the truth, she wouldn't be surprised if he suddenly pulled out his yew wand and started aiming flashes of green at her parents, but that was not something she should share with her parents.

"I'm afraid it's my fault, Sarah," Tom said smoothly, placing a hand on Hermione's shoulder and squeezing it. "We had a row yesterday because she thought I wasn't going to show up."

At his words, Sarah and Anthony shared a look; they knew she had been dating Ron but had never heard of her breaking up with him, so they were wondering how Tom fit into the whole scenario. However, Tom managed to steer the conversation away from that topic before her parents could ask, and before she knew it, they were urging her to "spend some more time with Tom and not let him feel neglected."

So, she ended up staring at Tom as he flipped through the channels. It was something that was too … foreign to her. Not even "strange" described her feelings towards it well enough. She wondered how many people would believe her if she told them Lord Voldemort had dinner with her Muggle parents, sat in her living room, and watched television without destroying something.

Yet.

Suddenly, he placed the remote control down next to him. Keeping his eyes on her, he propped up his head with his hand, his elbow resting on the back of the couch.

"Why are you here?" she asked again.

"Must we go through this again?" he asked with a sigh, his eyes landing on her mouth.

His free hand reached up and started caressing her lower lip.

"It's not logical for you to be here," she replied, lowering her eyes and staring at the finger that was touching her.

Words were lost when he leaned in and captured her with a kiss. The hand that had been supporting his head tangled with her hair and pressed her towards him. The thought of her parents walking in and finding  ** _this_**  made her try to push him away, but it was a fruitless action. Instead, he deepened the kiss, his tongue snaking its way into her mouth and entwining with hers. The squeak that wanted to come out of her throat turned into a soft moan between them.

Just when Hermione was about to deepen the kiss, the sound of the approaching voices of her parents alerted her. Steeling her heart, she bit down on Tom's tongue, forcing him to pull away. Frantically, she looked at herself, making sure that her hair and clothes were properly in place.

"Would you like some hot chocolate, Tom?" Sarah asked as she and Anthony walked into the living room.

Though she asked the question, there were already four mugs of it on her tray.

"Yes, please," Tom replied, not a sign on his face that showed that he had just been bitten by their daughter.

Anthony sat down in the couch to their right, and after Sarah placed mugs of chocolate on the table in front of Hermione and Tom, she, too, joined him.

"If I weren't looking at your parents, I would've guessed one of them to be vampires. You are much too fond of biting, dear," Tom whispered in her ear while Sarah and Anthony watched what was showing on television.

"Like you would've moved away if I hadn't done that," she hissed back.

Their low-voiced argument was forced to stop when Sarah and Anthony then took turns placing their attention on them, asking them polite questions. Even with what happened at the dinner table, Hermione could not help but be in awe with the way Tom seemed to steer every single conversation the way he wanted it to go. Regardless of what she said, he had a way of twisting her words to mean something completely different. She learned, by the end of the night to keep her mouth shut, since he seemed to be intent on making things worse when she tried to speak.

Or at least, she  ** _tried_**  to keep her mouth shut. It was difficult really, since she did not get the chance to tell her parents what happened nor did she want to tell them.

In the end (after her parents were led to believe that Hermione and Tom had fallen in love at first sight, Ron had grudgingly stepped aside, and their daughter and the Slytherin were still only in the kissing stage), Sarah and Anthony retired to their room, and the two of them were left alone once again.

"Now, I believe you still owe me something for biting me. Again," Tom spoke up, turning towards her again.

She sighed and rolled her eyes. She had already known that something like this would have happened.

His hand returned to her chin, and tilting her head upwards, he leaned forward again and captured her lips. However, Hermione still feared that her parents would return to the living room.

"Relax, Granger. They already know we're kissing," he mumbled against her lips.

"Knowing is completely different from seeing," she retorted.

With a sigh, Tom whipped out his wand and cast different spells towards the doorway.

"There. Better now?" he asked, and without waiting for an answer, he returned to her lips again.

He let out a frustrated sound when she pulled away from him and asked, "What spells are those?"

"Spells that would alert us if your parents come too close to the room and  _Muffliato_ ," he replied.

 _Muffliato_? Since when did Tom know that spell?

Before she could ask, however, he lowered his head and kissed her again, and without waiting for her to push him away again, he grabbed both of her arms and separated them to the side, making sure they were out of the way.

Things gradually got out of control, but Hermione had no ways to stop it, nor did she truly want it to stop. There was a part of her mind that kept nagging that something was  ** _not_**  logical in everything that was happening, from Tom's appearance at the door to him knowing the  _Muffliato_.

For one moment, the thought of Ron pretending to be Tom caused a lurch in her stomach. However, she then remembered that Ron could never manipulate a scenario the way Tom did. The only person she had ever seen do that successfully  ** _was_**  Tom. Thus, the person snogging her right now could not possibly be an impostor.

"Would you please concentrate already?" Tom asked against her lips, annoyed.

But her mind was in a disorder, and she just knew that if she didn't get answers soon …

A crash, a thump, and the sounds of windows breaking.

Alarmed, Hermione pulled away from Tom, her eyes looking around the room. Her eyes nearly bugged out when she saw Hagrid and Harry in the middle of her living room.

"Harry, I thought you were at the Burrow, and Hagrid, what are you doing here?" Hermione asked.

"Tom!" Hagrid suddenly boomed, and Hermione was frightened that there might be a duel right in the middle of her parents' living room.

"Dad!" the young man sitting beside her exclaimed, nearly causing Hermione to fall off the sofa.

"You mean he's my brother?" Harry asked in awe.

Hermione sputtered.

She felt the living room swirling around her as the three of them started hugging one another.

"What's going on?" she demanded.

However, Hagrid had begun to sing a Christmas song (something about "Nargles in the mistletoe"), and Harry was playing the guitar, though Hermione had no idea where the guitar had come from.

Without warning, Draco stormed into the room and started pulling the guitar away from Harry.

"Give me back my guitar! How am I supposed to have my concert without it?"

Hermione's mouth dropped open, and her eyes widened even further when she saw Ginny dancing into the room, wearing a pink leotard and tutu.

Just when Hermione thought that nothing could confuse her anymore, McGonagall padded into the room, complete with a flowery printed cape, fluffy slippers, and her wand extended.

"I am now the ruler of the world. Surrender or I shall kill every one of you," she demanded.

~-0-~

With a gasp, Hermione sat up in her bed. She blinked her eyes a couple of times until the blurriness went away. For once in her life, she was glad that she was in the past and not in the future … well, if the future were like what happened in her dream. That had to be strangest dream in her life.

Taking a look out the window, she realized that it was still early, but she no longer felt sleepy. So after she changed out of her pajamas and brushed her teeth, she decided to take a walk outside.

The sun had not risen yet, causing the air outside to be cooler than it normally was. Pulling her cloak a bit closer to her body, she melted the snow off the bench with a wave of her wand and sat down.

"You're up early," a voice suddenly said to her right.

She turned around and found Tom standing a small distance away. Remembering the dream she just had caused a shiver to go down her spine, and for a moment, she wondered if she had just awoken from one dream to arrive in another one.

However, she could not help but be struck by how beautiful he was again. His jet black hair contrasted sharply with the pure whiteness of the snow, causing his features to be even more prominent than usual. His eyes seemed darker, though Hermione had no idea if it were due to the color of the background or because of the lack of light.

A simple black cloak hung casually on his body, yet it could not cover that elegance in him. Hermione had the sudden urge to badger Harry to show her memories of how Tom looked like when he was a child, just to see if that air of nobility was innately in him. She could not imagine it being something he had learned when he was back in the orphanage.

After trudging through the snow, he sat down in the bench next to her.

"Waiting for the sun to rise?" he asked.

"I guess," she murmured.

A small smirk appeared on his face, and he extended his hand, wrapping it around her smaller ones and warming them. They sat there, without saying another word as the skies started to brighten considerably. Yet, the silence was comforting, especially after that unsettling dream she just had, and she realized with a start that she would not mind sitting there with him for the rest of her life.

Right before the sun peeked over the horizon, he turned her face towards him with his free hand. Their lips met, and Hermione sighed, closing her eyes.

The loss she felt during the dream when she returned to the future was real, and she acknowledged it. It might happen one day, when she was forced to return to the future and leave him forever. However, the best she could do right now was live in the moment and cherish every second she had with him.

After all, there were no guarantees when she would be forced to wake up from this particular dream.

~-0-~

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **A/N** : Again,  **this chapter is not a continuation of the original plot.**
> 
> The story will pick up again on the next chapter. I just figured I should do something special just for the holidays, and somehow randomness just couldn't stay out of the special chapter, so here you have it.
> 
> Many thanks to SpicySugar and Nerys for beta-ing this chapter. 


	43. Chapter 43

**Chapter 43**

Pain.

She felt as if she had been ran over by a raging manticore and then thrown at the Whomping Willow. She tried to move, but the moment she did, the pain increased tenfold.

A soothing, female voice spoke to her in German when she stirred, and someone supported her while holding a glass up to her lips.

She wanted to open her eyes and check to make sure she wasn't taking in some kind of harmful potion, but she couldn't. She didn't even have the strength to speak out and protest while the liquid was poured down her throat. Once it made its way into her system, she drifted back into sleep.

The next time she woke up, she felt much better. At least she no longer felt like all her bones were broken. Blinking her eyes a couple of times to clear away the blurriness, she surveyed her surroundings. Much to her relief, they were back at Dietfried's house, but there was no sign of the German-speaking lady who had helped her while she had been half unconscious. The thought of Ernsta being the person who had fed her the potion nearly made her snort, even though it wasn't really a laughable matter. She highly doubted Ernsta would treat her kindly, and the vile woman would sooner feed her poisons than healing concoctions.

Stiffly, Hermione turned her head to the side and found Ginny in the bed next to hers still asleep. A single candle sat on the table against the wall across from them, providing minimal light for the room, and the darkness outside the window indicated that it was night. Hermione wondered how long she had been knocked out until worry crashed down on her like a tidal wave. Were the boys alright?

Before she could get herself out of the bed, the door opened, and an unfamiliar lady entered the room, carrying a tray of potions in her hand. The woman said something in German, and though Hermione could not understand, she knew the stranger had to be the one who had been caring for her while she had been drifting in and out of consciousness.

The woman placed the tray on the table in between the two beds and stuffed a bottle of potion in Hermione's hands. Hermione eyed the liquid for a few seconds while she sniffed at it before she realized how silly of an action it was. If the woman wanted to poison her, it would've been far easier doing that while Hermione was unconscious, and the concoction she had taken before did help her. So, she drank the potion without further ado.

"Are the others alright?" Hermione asked as she placed the empty bottle back onto the tray.

The woman gazed at her, her kind face troubled, and Hermione realized that she probably didn't understand English. Biting her lower lip, she pushed herself out of bed but was prevented from doing so by the woman who started chiding her in German.

"But the others … Tom … Harry, Draco … I have to check on them," Hermione said, stubbornness creasing her forehead into a frown.

Nonetheless, it was useless, since the woman could not understand what she was saying.

Frustration nearly made her scream, and she would've done so if Ginny hadn't chosen this moment to stir in her bed. The German lady rushed over to Ginny's bed, and using this opportunity, Hermione pushed herself out of the bed and attempted to make a run for it. The moment she tried to take a step forward, she crashed down to the floor, dizziness taking over her body.

The stranger let out a gasp and hurried over to help her up, and at the same moment, the door opened.

"Fräulein," Dietfried said in surprise before saying something in German to the foreign witch as he hobbled over to where Hermione had fallen. "You mustn't overwork yourself, Fräulein. You've been hurt by a very dark curse, and it will take some time before you completely heal."

"Tom, Harry, Draco … are they alright?" Hermione asked, looking at Dietfried with worry.

"Yes, yes, Fräulein. They are resting now with the young man you've saved from the cave," Dietfried reassured her. "Please do get back in bed. You may see them tomorrow morning."

With the help of the stranger, Dietfried hoisted Hermione back in bed. As Dietfried and the German lady piled blankets on top of her, she glanced towards Ginny and found out that she was still unconscious.

"Ginny … is she alright? Why isn't she awake?" Hermione asked, worried.

"She's alright, Fräulein," Dietfried replied, strengthening his grip around her arm. "Each person reacts differently to the curse and healing potions. She might wake a bit later, but no lasting harm has been done to her." He turned his head towards the German lady. "This is one of two Healers in our town, Emiline. She doesn't speak English … Our other Healer who knows English, Leopold, got called over to the town across the forest …"

She relaxed the moment she learned that Ginny and the others were safe. Though she tried her best to listen to what Dietfried was saying, she soon drifted out of consciousness again.

The next time she woke up, it was still night time, but she felt a lot better. At least her head no longer felt like it was being stampeded upon by centaurs.

She hoped that was what Umbridge would go through. If she did not get to return to the future, perhaps she could make sure it would happen? After all, the timeline had already been changed, so one more  ** _little_**  change would not make too big of a difference.

The world would not miss anything with the disappearance of a pink toad.

Tentatively, Hermione pushed herself out of the bed and found Ginny still asleep. The redhead, nonetheless, seemed to be in a better condition.

Placing both feet on the floor, Hermione tested out her strength and was glad to find that she could stand up without toppling over, despite that annoying lack of energy. She felt as if she had been thrown through that whacked up spell Tom had used to send them to Germany again.

Taking a deep sigh, she walked out and stumbled towards the room Harry and Draco were staying in.

"Granger …" Draco said, cracking open one eyelid and glancing at her as she sat down in the chair next to the door.

"Are you alright?" Harry asked, looking every bit as tired and battered up as Draco.

"Horrible," she answered with a weak smile, "but better than when I first woke up."

"Touché," Draco muttered, closing his eyes again. "Reckon the spell had been cast by Riddle? After all, he seems to be rather good at putting us through these 'Let me save you by throwing you into a dragon's nest' kind of tactics."

Harry snorted despite of himself, and Hermione rolled her eyes.

"Oops. My apologies, Granger. I forgot you were snogging him on regular basis," Draco drawled.

Hermione's face turned bright red while Harry threw a pillow at the Slytherin.

"Oomph," Draco grunted when it hit him straight in the face.

"Hush, Malloy," Harry said.

Draco picked up the pillow and placed it under his head, all the while giving Harry an annoyed look.

"Ugh, I'm never going to get used to this losing all your energy routine," he muttered with a disgusted look on his face.

"Do you really think it was Riddle who helped us out there?" Harry asked Hermione.

Biting her lower lip, Hermione shook her head. "I don't think so. I thought he'd fallen unconscious from the curse, too."

"That's what Dietfried said," said Harry, pushing himself to a sitting position with some difficulty. "But he's also the one who's recovering the fastest, according to Dietfried."

"Dietfried did say that each person responds differently to the spell and the potions," Hermione reasoned.

"Probably because he has more experience with dark spells than the rest of us combined," Draco muttered.

The door opened again, and this time, Ginny appeared.

"Oh, you're awake," she commented, a soft smile appearing on her face when she saw Harry safe.

"How are you feeling, Ginny?" Harry asked as she sat down in the chair next to Hermione's.

"Loads better," she replied. After a short pause, she asked, "Who saved us?"

"I have no idea," Harry answered, shaking his head. "We were just talking about it … and we doubt it's Riddle."

"I don't think it's him either," Ginny said. She frowned, a thoughtful expression on her face. "Do you think it's Dumbledore?"

"If it were Dumbledore, why did he leave right afterwards? He would've stayed and talked to us, wouldn't he?" Harry asked.

"We don't know if he stayed or not," Ginny replied. "Maybe he had something important to do and only had enough time to save us."

"But it was a dark spell," Draco reminded them.

"Just because he doesn't use it frequently, doesn't mean he doesn't know darker curses," said Ginny.

In the end, they could not come up with a concrete answer, so they could only assume that Dumbledore or some other kind-hearted wizard helped them out, though that in itself sounded strange, since the curse that was used on them and the trolls was a dark one.

When their discussion came to a dead end, Hermione excused herself, causing Draco to raise an eyebrow. Without waiting for their comments, she exited the room, her cheeks a faint pink color.

 _The pros and cons of letting them know about what is going on between Tom and me_.

At the foot of the stairs, she saw Dietfried, who greeted her with a grin.

"Good evening, Fräulein. How are you feeling?" Dietfried asked.

"A lot better, thank you," she replied.

"You are down here to see Herr Riddle, I assume?" he asked.

Biting her lower lip, Hermione nodded before she quickly added, "And the young man we've saved from the trolls … is he all right?"

"Yes, yes. He's recovering, though that injury to his leg might take some time to heal," Dietfried answered.

"And … Tom … is he all right?" Hermione asked.

Though Harry had commented that Tom was recovering faster than the rest of them, she still wanted to make sure.

"Yes, I daresay, he's recovering quicker than the rest of you. Just this morning, I saw him sitting at the table, writing a letter," Dietfried replied.

"Writing a letter?" Hermione inquired, raising her eyebrows.

Dietfried nodded.

"Did he say who he was writing to?" Hermione pressed on.

He looked at Hermione strangely and answered, "No, he didn't."

Hermione frowned. Who could Tom be writing to? She doubted his followers really cared about his well-being, and Tom didn't seem like the type that would write back just to tell them he was safe and sound. After thanking Dietfried, she continued on to Tom's room. When she reached the door, she was still nowhere near the answer, since she had no clues at all, and she doubted Tom would tell. Nonetheless, she stored that piece of information away in the back of her head.

Just in case.

Tom looked up from the book he was reading when the door opened. Hermione opened her mouth and was about to say something but was stopped when he placed a finger on his lips, signaling for her to keep quiet. He then pushed himself out of bed and pulled her out of the room, closing the door behind him as quietly as he could.

"What's wrong?" Hermione asked, alarmed.

"Nothing, except that annoying bloke you risked our lives to save," Tom answered with a sigh.

"What's wrong with him?" she revised her question.

"He won't stop talking," Tom replied, rubbing the bridge of his nose. "He finally just fell asleep. If he hears that his 'savior'—" He smirked at the word. "—is here, he would talk both of our ears off."

Hermione tilted her head to one side and raised her eyebrows, wondering if she should mention that he loved to hear himself talk, too, but in the end, she decided against it. She doubted he would take that very well, and at the moment, she wasn't in the best condition to run for her health.

"How … are you feeling?" she asked instead.

He gazed at her for a moment. For some reason, the way he was staring at her caused a blush to appear on her cheeks, and she looked downwards.

"Better … thank you," he replied.

She glanced upwards and found a faint smile at the corners of his lips. She quickly looked away again, mentally cursing how easy it was for her cheeks to turn red.

"Are you still feeling dizzy?" he asked.

She shook her head. "No … not anymore. It seems like Emiline's potions are working."

Tom nodded and fell silent.

Hermione glanced at him and found his eyes still on her. Clearing her throat softly, she decided to change the topic.

"Did you see who saved us from the trolls?"

"No," he replied.

Hermione looked at him silently. His answer was logical; the way he delivered it sounded like he was telling the truth; and his expression was blank, as it usually was. But for some reason, she could not shake away the feeling that there was something … off.

Tom raised an eyebrow, an amused expression on his face, when he noticed her gaze on him. "Granger, we were all knocked unconscious by that spell. If you have no idea who saved us, how would I know? Besides, it's a bit ridiculous trying to hide that kind of information from you, don't you think?"

She dropped her gaze. However, his words did nothing to alleviate that feeling of being lied to at all. If anything, they just made her more suspicious, especially after what Dietfried told her. She wondered if the letter was still in the room … if only she could check the room and see …

"Is the young man we saved all right?" she asked, changing the subject again. If she played her cards right, the young man could be her ticket to finding information about whom Tom was writing to.

"He's talking," Tom replied offhandedly as if that were enough to indicate that the young man was fine. "Nonstop."

"That still doesn't mean that he's safe," she argued.

When she made a move towards the door, however, Tom stopped her.

"What are you doing?"

"I want to see if he's all right," Hermione said.

"That's the Healer's responsibility, and I'm not going to let you wake him up so he can start annoying me again," said Tom.

"Well, that's news to me. You don't seem to be extremely annoyed when those Slytherins around you chat nonstop," Hermione snapped.

"Because they're talking with one another and not to me," Tom answered.

"Oh right. Keeping up that innocent young man façade in front of strangers now, are we?" Hermione sneered.

He did not answer and raised his eyebrow at her, looking at her as if he had just seen her for the first time. Without saying another word, Hermione pushed open the door and entered the room. Much to her surprise, the young man was awake and was quite handsome after he had been cleaned up.

His dark brown hair was still kind of messy, perhaps because he had been sleeping just a few minutes ago. His eyes were sky blue (which momentarily made Hermione think of Ron) and twinkled in the dim light given off by the candles. In contrast to the brooding atmosphere that surrounded Tom when he was not talking, the young man gave people an impression of cheerfulness.

"Oh," he said, sitting up in his bed. "Hermione—er—Miss Granger—"

"Hello," she said, an apologetic smile on her face. "Did we wake you up?"

"No, no," the young man replied, running a hand through his dark locks. "I couldn't really fall into a deep sleep …"

"Do you feel better?" she asked, careful to not move her head while she looked around the room; the suspect was still standing right behind her after all.

"Yes," he answered. "Thank you for saving me."

"Oh … don't mention it," she said. "I'm sure anyone would've done the same thing if they were in our position."

A snort behind her told her otherwise, but she wisely ignored it.

"Yes … but it was still extremely brave of you," he said.

The admiration on his face made Hermione mildly awkward, but nonetheless, a faint blush and small smile appeared on her face.

"You don't have an accent," she commented.

She narrowed her eyes when she saw a folded piece of paper on the table next to Tom's bed. But how could she read it without Tom or the young man noticing? Was that the letter Tom had been writing that morning?

"Oh, I'm not German," the young man answered brightly.

"No?" Hermione asked in genuine surprise.

"No, I'm from London," he replied.

"As interested as you are in his life story, Hermione, I do believe the Healer advised him to rest as much as he could in order for his wounds to heal," Tom interrupted before Hermione could continue asking. "And I do believe you would have received the same exact orders, too."

Without waiting for the young man or Hermione to protest, Tom pulled her out of the room and closed the door behind him.

"That was unnecessary," Hermione argued, even more irritated because she hadn't gotten the chance to even find out if that paper on the table was the letter.

Did he find out why she wanted to go into his room and that was why he pulled her away? Did he realize she had wanted to find out what was written on that letter?

"Oh?" he asked, raising his eyebrow. "I do recall hearing that crash just last night when you tried to get out of bed, Granger. If you want to remain crippled for the rest of your life, feel free to continue walking about."

His words took her by surprise, and she stared at him for a moment as she digested this new information, wondering why Emiline or Dietfried had not mentioned this, before she retorted, "And why doesn't that apply to you?"

"Because someone's standing here arguing with me," he snapped.

Her mouth clamped shut, and without another word, she went up the stairs as fast as her still weak limbs could manage. Ginny looked up in alarm when she threw the door open. For a moment, Hermione's temper was slightly reined in, glad to see Ginny back in bed and not in the danger of getting crippled.

"What happened?" Ginny asked.

"The Heir of Morons," Hermione bit out as she closed the door behind her and threw herself in bed.

And she was actually worried about that git.  ** _Him_**. As if he deserved her worry.

Ginny appeared even more surprised, but that did not stop an expression of amusement from appearing on her face.

It was a long time afterwards, but when Hermione finally calmed herself down and after she warned Ginny to not walk around too much, a question floated up to the surface of her mind.

Why did Tom know so much about the curse?

As much as Hermione tried, she could not convince herself that she was being paranoid. Later on that night, she made it a point to ask Emiline through Dietfried's translations about the results of being placed under the curse. However, the Healer replied that she did not know too much about it, and it was by luck and chance that she was any help at all. Hermione's suspicions grew when the Healer seemed surprised to hear that there was a risk of becoming crippled if they didn't rest enough. This made her even more certain that Tom had lied when he had said that he did not know who had saved them from the trolls.

She gritted her teeth, vowing to find more proof about this before confronting Tom about it.

The true question, however, lingered at the front of her mind: Why was he keeping the identity of their savior a secret?

~-0-~

The danger of being crippled was most likely passed by the next morning, since Tom did not say anything when she appeared at the dining table. Judging by the conditions of the rest of the people, they felt just as recovered as she was, though still more tired than normal.

The weariness, however, could not be seen in the young man they had saved from the trolls. He was every bit as cheerful as she had seen him while he was in his room, and he nearly knocked over his glass of water when Hermione entered the room and sat down directly across from him.

"Do you feel better? You looked tired last night," he asked.

"Yes. Thanks … er … I still don't know your name yet," Hermione said with a smile.

Tom's hand, which had been reaching out for a glass of water, stopped in midair for a split second before continuing as if nothing happened.

"Nicholas, madam. Nicholas Lockhart-Lovegood," he answered.

Harry, Draco, and Ginny all stared at him before sharing a look with one another. Hermione's mouth dropped open, and excitement appeared on her face.

"Nicholas Lockhart-Lovegood? As in  ** _the_**  Nicholas Lockhart-Lovegood? The same one who wrote  _Creatures of the Dark and Light_?" Hermione asked, her eyes bright.

The sound of glass cracking caught all of their attentions, and they turned towards the source just in time to see Tom casually pull out his wand and fixed his glass as if nothing happened, his expression still one of calm aloofness.

"You've read it?" Nicholas asked, turning back to Hermione and a pleased grin appearing on his face.

"Yes! Of course I did! It's brilliant!" Hermione exclaimed, promptly making Tom roll his eyes and Harry spray his mouthful of milk all over Draco.

"Evans," Draco groaned, wiping away the liquid with a napkin as Harry coughed and Ginny patted him on the back.

"You have no idea how much I agree with some of your theories," said Hermione excitedly, leaning forward towards him, "and your ideas … they're just so ahead of their time."

She thought she heard a snort coming from Tom, but the moment she looked at him, she could not find any trace of it on his face.

"Well," Nicholas replied, drawing Hermione's attention back to him and puffing his chest out proudly, "people have to understand that these creatures share many common traits with us and shouldn't be treated as if they're  ** _supposed_**  to do our bidding."

"That's what I've been trying to tell my friends," Hermione said, shooting an annoyed look at Harry who wasn't looking at her at all.

Instead, he was looking at Nicholas in confusion, surprise, and suspicion.

"That is exactly what would make a difference," Nicholas agreed, nodding his head. "If every person thought 'They don't need me; I'm just an extra,' then society will never move ahead. It takes the combination of all our strengths against the tide to achieve our goals."

"I agree wholeheartedly. If only my friends would listen to me. I've been trying to make them take me seriously when I talk about house-elves' rights—"

Draco rolled his eyes and sighed loudly, earning an annoyed look from Hermione.

"Just because  ** _you_**  have house-elves at home doesn't mean that it's right," she said. "How would you like it if you were bound to a house and forced to do the owner's bidding?"

"Granger, the house-elves don't  ** _care_**. Dobby was just an anomaly. Take any other house-elf and they would show you how offended they are by the idea of being free," Draco pointed out.

"That's not going to work," Harry muttered to Draco on the side.

"That's because they haven't tasted freedom before. If you allow them to feel it, to experience it, they would feel differently—"

"How did you know?" Draco whispered to Harry as inconspicuously as he could while Hermione ranted on the side.

"She knitted wooly bladders a few years ago and placed them around our common room, trying to trick the house-elves into picking them up. The house-elves refused to clean up our dorms afterwards," Harry explained in a low voice, earning a glare from Hermione when he mentioned her handiwork.

"Oh, do you know how to knit?" Nicholas suddenly spoke up, stopping Hermione from arguing.

A faint blush appeared on her cheeks, and after shooting one last glare at Harry and Draco, she smiled at Nicholas, embarrassed. "I wished I could knit better, but I can only do simple things—"

"Reckon you can knit me something?" Nicholas asked, wrapping both of his hands around his glass. His mouth snapped shut when he realized how forward that sounded. "I mean … when you have time … and if you want to, of course … I'm not trying to force you into doing it …"

Ginny snickered softly and nudged Draco in the side, who followed her line of sight and looked at the "scene" to Hermione's right. A snort was quickly muffled by him, but it was a bit pointless—Tom had his attention on Hermione and Nicholas, both of whom were deeply engrossed in their conversation.

The color of Hermione's cheeks turned a shade darker as she pushed a lock of hair behind her ear.

"Well … I'm not very good at it …"

"You're just being modest," Nicholas said, his gaze of admiration never wavering from Hermione.

To her side, Tom placed down his glass of water on the table quietly as she smiled. "Well, if you like …"

"I'd be thrilled," Nicholas said. "You have no idea how fascinated I am by people who know how to knit. I mean, my mother tried when I was younger, but—"

"A Galleon someone's going to get strangled by a knitted scarf," Ginny muttered.

"I'd say by tonight," Draco whispered back as he stared at Tom.

"You're on," Ginny replied with a grin.

"—in the end, she concluded that it must be because of the blood that runs through my family, since we're much more book-oriented than housework-oriented," Nicholas said.

"Blood?" Hermione asked.

"Yes … well, it doesn't help that we've descended from Rowena Ravenclaw herself. Never heard her being famous for housework," Nicholas replied cheerfully.

The rest of the people sitting at the table stopped in their motions and stared at him.

"Bet's off," Ginny said the moment she recovered from her stupor and saw the renewed look of interest on Tom's face.

"No way, Weaselette. A bet's a bet, and we're not calling it off," Draco said with glee on his face.

"Ravenclaw's your ancestor?" Tom asked, sliding the tip of his finger over the rim of his glass. "And how do we know if you're lying or not?"

"Well, it's rather hard to prove something like that," Hermione said, a cautious expression on her face.

"Then shouldn't he be a bit careful about saying something like that. How easy it would be for someone to call him a liar," Tom replied, keeping his eyes on Nicholas.

Hermione had the urge to warn Nicholas not to look into Tom's eyes, lest the latter used Legilimency on him. However, she knew she couldn't do so without a good explanation. Good thing Nicholas had his eyes on her instead of Tom.

"I know it's not something that's believable, and I would've given you proof if I still had it," Nicholas said to Hermione.

"'Still?'" Tom inquired, raising an eyebrow.

"My father fell ill a couple of years ago, and my mother was forced to sell every last Ravenclaw artifact we had," Nicholas explained.

"Sold it to whom?" Tom pressed on.

"Now why would Nicholas know something like that? He said his mother sold it," Hermione cut in.

Harry and Ginny were both staring at Tom with attentiveness now, and Hermione knew the same thing that was going through her head was going through theirs, too.

"That's absurd, Hermione. I'm pretty sure that Mrs. Lockhart-Lovegood would've kept that information, just in case she'd ever got enough Galleons to purchase the items back," Tom said smoothly.

"Well, that's between Mrs. Lockhart-Lovegood, Nicholas, and the buyer, isn't it?" Hermione snapped.

Silence descended as Hermione stared at Tom with her arms crossed over her chest. Though it was obvious that history had been thoroughly distorted by now, she was not going to assist him or give easy access to items he might be interested in making Horcruxes out of.

In contrast to the stern look on her face, Tom had that indifferent mask back on again, though his eyes were slightly narrowed, as if he found something displeasing on Hermione that he rather not voice out loud. Seconds later, even that disappeared, and in its place was pleasant politeness.

"I was just curious, Hermione. It's not precisely something to get angry about, is it?" Tom asked, the corner of his lips curving upwards into a smile.

The smile in itself seemed genial, but yet there was something in it that caused a rather noticeable shudder from Draco.

"Well, maybe you should have been a bit more considerate towards others and realize that people might find it painful to be reminded of their parents' deaths," Hermione hissed back.

"I was simply wondering if Abraxas knew this buyer, and perhaps we may recover these artifacts for poor Nicholas," Tom continued, sending Nicholas an understanding smile, and Hermione could barely hold back a snort.

 _Recover those artifacts for Lord Voldemort would be more like it_ , she huffed in her mind.

"Thank you for being so thoughtful, Mr. Riddle. But like Hermione's said, I'm afraid I do not know the name of the buyer. You see, my mother was a rather secretive person, and she passed away a few months ago," Nicholas replied.

Hermione relaxed upon hearing Nicholas's words, and pity for his misfortunes caused her expression to soften.

"I'm sorry to hear that," she said.

"Don't worry about it," Nicholas said, sighing. "I'm sure my mother would be much happier seeing my father again, instead of watching her useless son."

The bitter smile on Nicholas's face made Hermione feel bad, and she would've patted him if she were sitting next to him.

"How can you be considered useless? Your knowledge in different creatures is brilliant, and the theories you've created in Arithmancy made a lot of progress in areas never explored before," Hermione contradicted his words.

A smile appeared on Nicholas's face. "Do you really find my works brilliant?"

"Of course," she immediately answered, and it was rewarded with a beam.

She was so immersed in the conversation that followed that she had unconsciously placed all her attention on Nicholas again. Therefore, it also escaped her notice when Harry and Ginny shared a look the moment they saw a vile glint pass through Tom's eyes, right before he lowered his head to take another sip of water.

And they could not foresee anything but trouble in the forthcoming days.

~-0-~

Tom Marvolo Riddle was up to something.

Though Hermione had no idea what it was, she was positive that he was planning something. Catching him alone with Ernsta in the kitchen that afternoon did make her annoyed, but it was nothing in comparison to her suspicions about what his intentions were.

Ernsta, upon seeing Hermione, immediately pointed her finger at Tom and said that he was the one who had approached her, and they did nothing but talk. Tom, on the other hand, appeared much calmer, though Hermione had the feeling of being lied to  ** _again_**.

"I simply wanted to know more about the forest that we've gotten hurt in. After all, we still have to find out who saved us, don't we?" he replied after Ernsta hurried out of the kitchen.

Her disbelief in his words must have shown on her face, since a fleeting frown appeared on his face before he raised an eyebrow and crossed his arms over his chest.

"What else do you think we were talking about?" he asked. His lips curled upwards. "Scarves and mittens?"

His answer made Hermione's mouth drop open, and before she could say anything, he exited the kitchen. What frustrated Hermione even more was the fact that she could not find further clues in regards to what he was doing.

"Maybe the recipient of the letter is also the person who saved us?" Ginny suggested when Hermione told her what had happened.

It sounded reasonable to Hermione, but that did not bring them any closer to discovering what Tom was up to. Therefore, Ginny agreed to keep an eye out on Tom for Hermione; two pairs of eyes were better than one after all.

That night, Hermione decided to use visiting Nicholas as the reason to enter Tom's room. She did not dare to look at Tom when she told him her excuse, lest he find out that she was lying through Legilimency. Therefore, she could not help but be surprised when Tom denied her entry to his room.

"And why not?" she argued.

"Because it's my room for the time being," he replied, "and he's not in there right now."

His words made her even more certain that he was hiding something.

"Well, it doesn't hurt to let me in, does it?" she asked stubbornly.

"Why would I lie about something like that?" he asked. He paused for a second. "You seem quite interested in him."

His comment made her blush out of guilt and she lowered her eyes again.

"We saved him from the trolls, so we do have the responsibility to make sure that he's alright," she replied.

And then she realized how inappropriate her actions were. Tom would probably get the wrong idea and think that she looked away  ** _because_**  she was interested in Nicholas. Hastily, she gazed at him, just in time to see a cold, sarcastic smirk appear on his face.

"I—"

"I'm sure," he answered, cutting her explanation off. "I will tell Mr. Lockhart-Lovegood that you were here to see him."

Before she could say anything, he swirled into his room and shut the door in her face.

But she wasn't finished talking to him, and she didn't get the chance to check if the letter was still in the room.

"Tom, I need to speak to you," she said, knocking on the door.

However, it was probably easier speaking to a wall. The door remained locked, and Tom did not answer her. In the end, Hermione had no choice but to retreat upstairs to the hallway where Ginny was on standby.

"He didn't let me into his room," Hermione said in a low voice.

A frown appeared on Ginny's forehead as she picked on a spot right under her chin. "I wonder if he hadn't already sent the letter off. He could've done so last night or this morning, if he wakes up early enough to avoid attention."

Their conversation was cut short with the sound of a door closing downstairs, and cautiously, they tiptoed towards the stairs, avoiding spots that creaked loudly. They were just in time to see Tom enter the living room, and after sharing a look, they mutually decided to follow him, just in case he hadn't sent the letter yet and was sending it off now.

Hiding near the doorway, they stuck their heads around the archway and found Tom fumbling through the closet. After taking his cloak out, he fastened it around his neck. Hermione and Ginny almost gasped out of fright when he gazed around the room, making sure that no one saw him.

After a moment, they heard the sound of the door opening and closing.

"Ginny, alert Harry and Draco about this. I'm going to follow him," Hermione whispered.

"You can't do this alone, Hermione. What if he kills you out there?" Ginny protested.

"I've got to see what he's doing. I have no idea why, but this whole thing just makes me feel uneasy, and I can't let you take any risks. Now please hurry, or else I'll never catch up with him," said Hermione.

Ignoring Ginny's protests, she quickly went over to the closet, grabbed her cloak, and exited the house.

The bitter coldness of winter splashed into her face, and she pulled her cloak closer to her body. Few people were still rushing through the streets, hurrying to get home and out of the cold. Not too far up ahead, she saw Tom walking through the snow at a fast pace. He must have placed some kind of spell on his shoes, since there were no other explanations how he could get through that much snow at that pace.

Muttering an Anti-Slipping spell on her own shoes, Hermione started off in the same direction he was going while pulling her hood over her head. That way, if he were to turn around, he wouldn't immediately recognize her telltale bushy head of hair. Thankfully, it was nighttime, so she did not have to worry about him being able to see her features too clearly, even though the night sky was clear of clouds and the moon was shining brightly.

Much to her surprise, Tom walked directly into the forest they had gotten attacked by the trolls. Her suspicions as well as her curiosity grew, and that nagging feeling that Tom knew something— ** _a lot of things_**  that the rest of them didn't returned full force. After they entered the forest, Hermione's heart nearly stopped when Tom halted in his footsteps. As quietly as she could, she slipped behind a tree next to her, hoping he did not hear her. When nothing happened, she peeked around the tree and found Tom staring at a piece of paper.

A frown appeared on Hermione's face. Although she could not see the details, she could tell that it was some kind of map, and she had a hunch that it was a map of the forest. Now she was certain that Tom knew who had saved them from the trolls, and she was determined to find out just who this person was. It was illogical that Tom would hide this from her because he didn't have any reason to do so.

Or at least, he didn't have any  ** _apparent_**  reason to do so.

Adding another spell to her shoes to muffle the sounds they would make when she trudged across the snow, she followed after Tom when he continued on his way. She made sure to step in places where he had and kept at a distance she deemed **_safer_** , since she doubted following the future Dark Lord in secret could be considered "safe" in anyone's dictionary.

Much to her surprise (though perhaps, she shouldn't be), he took a different path from the one she and the others had last time.

_Did he plan_ **everything** _that had happened?_

That thought, as absurd and unlikely as it was to her, caused a tremor to go down her spine.

After recomposing herself, she concentrated on following the young man ahead. Apparently, he also had trouble finding his way around the forest, since he had to refer back to the map every once in a while. What Hermione was more concerned about was the fact that the paths were getting narrower and narrower. A couple of times, she found herself tangled in branches and had to stop to pick the cloth out of their grips. The last thing she wanted was to break one of them and alert Tom.

Other than that, it wasn't entirely impossible for her to follow his footsteps, since he was the only person amongst the trees. Hermione had no idea how long they walked, but she knew they had traveled rather deeply into the forest, much further than when they'd encountered the trolls.

And then, he stopped.

At first, Hermione thought that it was because he had to check his map again. However, she then realized that it was because there was someone else already waiting there.

"I'm here," Tom said.

In the trees a few feet in front of Tom, a shadow moved. His features were so recognizable to Hermione that it was almost difficult for her to suppress a gasp. The man wrinkled his nose as if he saw something displeasing.

"Either I've overestimated the abilities of my heir or the people who followed you are extremely clever."

His words confirmed his identity, but that only caused even more questions to appear in Hermione's mind.

**How** _and_ **why** _is Salazar Slytherin still alive?_

~-0-~

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **A/N** : Many thanks to SpicySugar and Nerys for beta-ing this chapter. 


	44. Chapter 44

**Chapter 44**

Hermione remained frozen in her spot as her stomach flip-flopped. How did Slytherin know she was there? It was impossible, or at least, it seemed impossible to Hermione, since Tom appeared to have no idea that he was being followed.

Unless he had been pretending, too. But why in Merlin's name would he allow her to follow him? And to let her find out something like this?

And Slytherin said "people," didn't he? So there must be someone else following Tom. Could it be Ginny?

Frantically, her eyes skimmed around, but she couldn't find signs of the redhead. Her mind continued to race, and she wondered  ** _how many_**  people followed Tom here tonight.

"Do show yourself, uninvited ones. It will be … less desirable for you if Tom and I have to force you out ourselves."

"Impudent witch," Tom muttered, his eyes narrowed.

"The bushy-haired one," Slytherin said instead of questioned, to which Tom nodded.

Hermione's breath caught when it hit her.  ** _He_**  was the person who saved them from the trolls. Salazar Slytherin was the one who had cast the curse and knocked them out.

Realization opened another floodgate of questions and horrifying speculations. It was clear by now that Tom had lied to her and  ** _why_**  he had lied to her. He had known all along who had saved them. There was even the possibility … No! Hermione was certain that Tom and Slytherin had spoken with one another that day, and Slytherin had probably knocked them out on purpose to speak with his heir. The fact that he had saved Harry, Ginny, Draco, and her had been luck on their part because if Tom had not been there, Slytherin probably wouldn't have bothered.

A shiver ran down Hermione's spine. She wondered how close the five of them had been to death that day. If Slytherin or Tom had wanted to kill them, they would have gotten the chance to, and the five of them wouldn't have had the chance to even try to fight back.

Slytherin's monkey-like face contorted into a cold sneer, and she realized that she had stalled for too long. He had lost his patience for waiting for her to appear. Before a squeak made it out of her throat, she was propelled through the air and fell into a heap at Slytherin's feet.

With horror, she noticed that her previous theory was proven true.

Lying right next to her was Ginny Weasley.

"Ginny," Hermione breathed out, fear rushing through her system now for both of their safety.

"Impudent  _witches_ ," Slytherin corrected Tom. "Rash, daring to the point of stupidity … If they're not Gryffindors, I'll eat Godric's hat." He observed Hermione, and the thought of Slytherin knowing Legilimency flashed through her mind, causing her to lower her eyes. "Self-sacrificing … Definitely a Gryffindor," Slytherin sniffed.

Tom had a reserved look on his face and had his arms crossed over his chest.

"Overrated in cleverness, too," he added, staring pointedly at Hermione.

"You  ** _lied_** ," she said through gritted teeth, glaring at Tom.

"That much is obvious," Slytherin replied for Tom, rolling his eyes before an amused expression appeared on his face. "She apparently needs to have her priorities sorted as well, but then again, Gryffindors were never known to have any common sense when it comes down to self-preservation." He crouched down and looked at Hermione. "Do tell me, little girl, were you more upset about the fact that Tom lied or about the fact that he lied to  ** _you_**?"

Hermione did not answer and kept her eyes on Tom while Ginny scrutinized the man in front of them, surprise written all over her face.

"But … but this isn't possible," the redhead muttered.

Slytherin's grey eyes roved over Ginny. "Red hair, freckles … Let me guess: Another Weasley?"

Ginny's mouth snapped shut before she answered, "No."

Slytherin's eyebrow shot upwards, and Hermione knew that she had been right: He did know Legilimency and was most definitely a master at it. Ginny lowered her head to hide her expression from Tom, and Hermione looked off in the distance.

 _Do not look at him in the eye. Do not look at_ **them** _in the eyes_ , Hermione repeated in her mind like a mantra.

However, frightening thoughts continued erupting in the back of her mind.

Slytherin knew they were time travelers, which meant that he could bypass whatever spell was placed on their minds to prevent people from finding out that piece of information. Additionally, Hermione had no idea what else he had seen when he looked into Ginny's and her eyes. Lord Voldemort had not known Slytherin before they messed up the timeline, had he? Would that mean that the Light would fall now? Harry … oh no … Harry … would that mean that Harry would be killed by Lord Voldemort instead?

Her thoughts were disrupted by Slytherin, who suddenly addressed Tom, "I need to talk to the two of them alone."

Hermione and Ginny couldn't help it; both of their heads snapped up, and they stared at him. Tom was equally as confused, since he was also gazing at Slytherin. In contrast to the pure surprise on their faces, there was also a tint of caution added to his expression.

"Oh, for goodness's sake! I'm not about to kill your little Mudblood. Just run along now, and I promise she won't lose a single strand of her hair before you see her again," Slytherin said.

His words made Hermione's eyes flicker over to Tom, who now had a frown on his face. When he noticed she was looking at him, he turned around stiffly and walked away. Slytherin waited until Tom was out of hearing distance, though it took quite a while, since the latter seemed reluctant to go.

"So … little time travelers," Slytherin spoke, catching Ginny and Hermione's attentions.

Both carefully placed their eyes on his eyebrows instead of his eyes. By this time, they had pushed themselves up to sitting position.

He laced his fingers together and scrutinized them. For a moment, Hermione was reminded of Dumbledore, but she doubted she would've been in the danger of dying if she was in the presence of her former Headmaster.

"Now that you are finally here …" Slytherin started to say.

"Finally?"

Hermione could not help interrupting him. He was speaking as if he'd manipulated the situations so that they would come here to Germany and encounter him.

"Yes, finally," Slytherin replied, glaring at Hermione as if annoyed that she dared to interrupt him. Nonetheless, a fleeting glint of approval appeared in his eyes. "When Albus came to me—"

"Came to you? Why would he come to you?" Ginny spoke up this time.

The frustration on Slytherin's face increased. "Bloody Gryffindors. That is why I like Slytherins so much better. At least they know when's the right time to keep quiet and allow ones who are superior to them to speak without interrupting—"

"Which is why you end up with people like Crabbe and Goyle in your House," Hermione retorted, earning a giggle from Ginny.

Slytherin narrowed his eyes at the two of them, and his wandhand twitched.

"You, little Mudblood, best learn to keep quiet, or else I may go back on my words with Tom," he warned quietly.

Deciding that shoving the ancestor of Lord Voldemort towards becoming murderous might be detrimental to one's health, Hermione closed her mouth, but he didn't continue speaking. Instead, he paced in front of them, trying to find the best way to communicate whatever he wanted to say to them.

Hermione did not bother resisting the urge to study his face and marveled at how …  ** _different_**  he looked from his descendant. Salazar Slytherin was really … not the best-looking wizard in the bunch, and she had to say, she was glad that Tom did not look like him. Though truth to be told, if she had not seen Slytherin's statue in the Chamber of Secrets, she would have never guessed that he was the one who had promoted the superiority of purebloods. He seemed … mild and almost kindly.

"So as I was saying, before a little Mudblood and a little blood traitor interrupted," Slytherin continued, shooting Hermione and Ginny a glare each, "when Albus came to me, I realized that I had to talk to at least one of you—"

"Why would Professor Dumbledore come and look for you?" Hermione repeated Ginny's question.  _Out of all people_ , she mentally added. "He was looking for—"

She stared at Slytherin as realization hit her.

"Yes, I am Konrad Feierabend," he sighed wearily, giving up on trying to stop the two Gryffindors from interrupting him.

He paused, and Hermione took this time to digest the information that she had just found out. It was … absurd to her how he became friends with Dumbledore, the person who had single-handedly manipulated the death of the last heir of his. She wondered if he had known or had even tried to stop Dumbledore from doing so, though either way, it hadn't work in the timeline she had known. Not to mention the fact that Dumbledore was a Gryffindor … but then again, she and Tom were also in a …  ** _relationship_**.

"I wanted to speak to at least one of you," Slytherin repeated. He paused again. "Do you recall what happened that day? The day when you were sent back in time?"

"Why?" Hermione asked.

A frown appeared on his monkey-like face. "Are you always this suspicious?"

Hermione chose not to answer, deciding that he would not like what she would say.

" ** _I_**  am the only one who should know that method. However,  ** _I_**  was not the one who had sent you back in time," Slytherin said when he acknowledged that she did not plan to answer his question. "I do not have a reason to do that, unless I become barking mad in the future and decided to drive myself further towards the realm of insanity—"

 _Talkativeness must run in the bloodline_ , Hermione thought to herself as Slytherin ranted on and on. Well, at least that was one mystery solved.  _And insanity. I have plenty of proof to give him, showing that he doesn't need to become barking mad; he already is, with his stupid ideology. What sane person would hide a basilisk underneath a school filled with students?_

"—but even then I doubt I would send two  ** _Gryffindors_**  to do that," Slytherin continued to say.

"If Professor Dumbledore came to look for you, then you must know where he'd gone afterwards," Hermione spoke up, interrupting Slytherin's rant.

He quirked his eyebrow at her, and a smirk quite similar to Tom's appeared on his face. "I never said he left."

"He never left? You meant you've kept him here?" Ginny asked, both enraged and frightened at the same time.

Hermione shared the same sentiments as her, but she was  ** _very_**  concerned with the situation they were in right now. There were only a few possibilities why Salazar Slytherin would bother to manipulate them into traveling to Germany by using Dumbledore, and none of them seemed very harmless to her.

"Where is Professor Dumbledore right now?" Hermione asked, deciding to get straight to the point.

"He's not—" Ginny trailed off, her eyes widening in fear.

"No, he's not dead. I'm not about to kill someone who could be considered my friend," Slytherin answered, a bit annoyed.

"Where is he right now then? Is he safe?" Hermione inquired.

"He's under my care right now, and if anyone wanted to harm him, Gellert Grindelwald included, they'd have to get past me first. Does that sound safe enough for you, little Mudblood?" Slytherin asked in return, obviously getting a bit irritated with the questioning session they were putting him through.

"Why did you want to speak with us?" Hermione asked, not the least bit scared by his demeanor.

She supposed she should be more frightened in Salazar Slytherin's presence, even if she had gone through "training" with Tom for the past few months. The ancestor should be scarier than the descendent, shouldn't he? However, for some reason, she just could not muster enough fear inside her for Slytherin. Strictly speaking, her fear towards Tom had been waning for the past few weeks, too. It was almost, however stupid it might sound, as if she could  ** _sense_**  that Tom and Slytherin would not kill her, even though they had threatened her with it. It was a rather … strange revelation for Hermione, but she could not dwell upon it for the time being.

"I wanted to know who sent you back here," Slytherin replied.

"That's it?" Hermione pressed on, and she knew suspicion was overly present in her voice again because the man raised his eyebrow once more.

"You've been spending far too much time with my heir over there," Slytherin concluded, nodding his head in the direction of Tom. "Yes, that's it, little Mudblood. I need to know who else is using a spell that only I'm supposed to know."

"But we don't know," Ginny answered. "Dumbledore must have told you that."

"He did," Slytherin admitted, "but I thought that perhaps you would have other clues, something else that you'd forgotten to mention while you were talking to him."

Hermione shook her head. "No, we've told him everything we've known … a couple of times, in fact. Professor Dumbledore made sure about that, since he was afraid we would've forgotten something the first couple of times around."

"Wait," Ginny interjected, a certain shine in her eyes. "If you know that spell, that means you can send us back to the future, right?"

Hermione's stomach churned. She had not even considered that option, and now that Ginny had said it, it made sense … but at the same time, she was startled by the dread she felt towards it.

Slytherin stared at Ginny for a few seconds, and something flickered in his eyes—was it amusement?—before he nodded. "Indeed, I can."

Ginny looked towards Hermione excitedly, and the latter gave her a weak smile back.

"But what do I get out of this?" Slytherin asked, folding his arms over his chest.

Ginny bit her lower lip and thought for a while. "There can't be possibly anything you want from us …"

Slytherin looked between the two of them a couple of times, a frown appearing on his face.

Hermione, however, was trying to convince herself that she should be happy that she was returning to the future. She  ** _should_**  be.

But she wasn't.

The fact that Tom was standing just a few feet away from them really did not help at all. The thought of never seeing him again was like a sharp knife wedging into her heart.

Suddenly, Slytherin huffed. "I need to know who used the spell … If I send you back to your time period, you would have to tell me who sent you back here."

"But we've told you already: We don't know," Ginny answered.

A cold, calculating smile appeared on Slytherin's face. "If I am not mistaken, once you are sent back to your world, whoever this person is would try to send you back here again."

Pushing her sorrows away, Hermione stared at him with Ginny, an incredulous look on their faces.

"And how would you know if he won't succeed? And what if we don't see him before we get sent back again? And if we're getting sent back again, wouldn't it be a bit pointless to send us back to the future in the first place?" Hermione asked.

Even if it pained her, she still had to do the right thing, not follow her emotions and harm everyone else in the process. Her parents were still waiting for her in the future; Harry and Ginny wanted to go home to the future; Draco must be worried sick about his parents. She could not be selfish. She had to think for  ** _their_**  sakes.

Still, there was a part of her that hoped her reasoning would put Slytherin off his plans to send them back. She wasn't all too enthusiastic about this; after all, Tom did have intentions to send them to Germany, but the spell messed up. There was no guarantee the same thing wouldn't happen when Slytherin tried to send them back to the future, too.

She had no desire to end up in some dinosaur-roaming time period, thank you very much.

A frown appeared on Slytherin's face again, and he started pacing around again.

"I shall think of a solution by our next meeting. You shall come here again with those two boys traveling with you," he finally said.

"One more thing: How are we going to tell you who sent us to this time period once we're back in the future?" Ginny asked.

"I was getting to that," Slytherin said, the haughty look returning to his face once again. "None of you are Parselmouths, so I will give you an object that will work once, and once only, that will grant you entrance to my Chamber of Secrets."

"How do we know if you won't trap us in there?" Ginny argued.

"If I do want to kill you, little Gryffindor, I wouldn't go through the trouble of sending you back home. I could do so right here, and I've only promised Tom not to harm the little Mudblood," Slytherin replied coldly. "All you have to do is leave a note of some kind in the Chamber of Secrets when you find out who sent you back in time. I will retrieve it from there in time."

He then cast a look towards where Tom was standing.

Apparently, Lord Voldemort was getting annoyed with waiting around in the snow. His eyes were visibly narrowed, and he looked as if he were ready to blast something off their feet when Hermione and Ginny turned around to glance at him and as he walked towards them.

"I need an Unbreakable Vow from the two of you," Slytherin announced when Tom was standing with them.

"An Unbreakable Vow? Why?" Hermione asked.

"How do you stand such an insufferable, suspicious know-it-all?" Slytherin addressed Tom through gritted teeth.

His words were nearly the same ones Professor Snape had thrown at her a few years back. However, instead of finding it painful, now she almost found it hilarious in a strange kind of way.

"For your information, Mudblood, I do not enjoy getting pestered by those insolent witches and wizards who call themselves researchers whenever I'm sitting down to do  ** _my_**  research. Additionally, I don't need others who want to achieve immortality trying to hunt me down for information about it every single day. So, I need you to vow to never disclose my whereabouts or even mention that you've seen Salazar Slytherin," Slytherin snapped. He paused for a second. "Excluding to those two boys you're traveling with, naturally."

Hermione did her best not to roll her eyes. The only one who was obsessed with the notion of immortality was standing right next to him.

"Now if you don't mind, can we just get this Vow finished as soon as possible? I need to speak with my heir tonight, and I don't need you overhearing the whole conversation," Slytherin said, annoyed.

Hermione's eyes darted between the two snakes. Both of them returned her gaze unflinchingly, and nothing showed from their expressions.

"Fine. Then you'd have to promise that you would not harm or kill any one of us, including Harry and Draco," Hermione said.

The corners of Slytherin's lips quirked upwards in amusement, and he answered, "That's fine with me, little Mudblood. Now let's get the Vow over and done with."

And so, with Tom serving as the Bonder, Slytherin took the Vow with both Hermione and Ginny. When the ceremony was finished, Slytherin forced the two of them to leave, though Hermione was very tempted to stay somewhere and listen in.

"Don't bother hiding behind the trees to listen, little Mudblood. I'm warding this place once you are ten feet away from us," Slytherin warned her.

If anything, his words made her curiosity grow to astronomical heights. What were the two of them talking about? She wished she had taken a couple of Extendable Ears with her into the past. Though she wondered if Slytherin's wards could repel them … it would have been worth a try.

Nonetheless, the only thing she and Ginny could do while they walked back to town was speculate on what Slytherin and Tom could possibly be talking about.

Once they reached the Kaufmanns' cottage, they sprinted up the stairs, woke Harry and Draco up, and informed them about what happened.

"You're  ** _insane_** , the both of you," Draco said after Hermione and Ginny finished talking.

"You could've at least  ** _told_**  us. We could've gone with you … what if Riddle tried to kill the two of you back there?" Harry asked worriedly.

"I told Ginny to warn the two of you, but she wouldn't listen," Hermione said.

"Like I was going to let you go alone with him into the forest. Who would have known what would have happened in there? He could've teamed up with Slytherin and murdered you in there," Ginny argued.

"Weaselette has a point, Granger. Slytherin promised not to kill us, but he never promised to  ** _protect_**  us from harm. If Riddle decides to kill all four of us in there, there's nothing we can do to stop him. Even if you are snogging him, Granger, if he views you as a threat, he's still not going to allow you to live," Draco pointed out, his face paler than usual and his eyes a bit wild-looking, as if he were afraid that Tom might enter the room any minute now and kill all of them. "You know too much …  ** _We_**  know too much. He's going to view  ** _all of us_**  as threats."

"You have to promise me, the both of you and especially you, Hermione: If this ever happens again, even if you risk losing track of where Riddle had gone, you have to tell us first. I have the Invisibility Cloak with me. At least if he does figure out that someone's following him, we have an advantage," Harry said, ignoring Draco's words.

"Do we even have an advantage anymore?" Draco interrupted, his voice less sarcastic than he would have liked it to be because of his fear. "In my opinion,  ** _he_**  has all the advantages. There's no guarantee what else he knows now. The way he was interrogating us in the forest that night … it was as if he  ** _knew_**  we're from the future, and with him knowing about the Elder Wand … I have no idea what kind of future we're returning to. And besides, who knows if Slytherin's really going to send us back home?"

"Well … he didn't seem like he was lying … and he wanted to know who'd sent us here … if he doesn't send us back—" Ginny started to say.

"Weaselette, think about  ** _who_**  you're talking about. It's  ** _Salazar Slytherin_**. Does it look like he has to hesitate when he's lying?" Draco pointed out.

And the three Gryffindors knew how much it took from him to say something like that about the Founder of his House. However, he did have a point, and to be truthful, Hermione was afraid, too. Even if Slytherin hadn't lied to them, she had no idea what they would find after the spell was used on them. What if his spell went wrong? What if they were sent somewhere else instead of home?

And again, who was the person who had sent them through time and what was his or her purpose?

Nothing made sense to Hermione anymore, and she would rather not think. However, she could not afford to do that.

"We have to take the risk," Hermione said firmly. "Slytherin wants to see and speak with us again … all four of us. I'm guessing that he would contact us again in regards to when and where—"

"Granger, are you sure about this?" Draco cut in, his voice panicky. "This could very well be a trap … the Dark Lord knows something, I know it. And he knows for certain that for some reason, I have his mark on me. What if this whole thing was made up just so he could take vengeance on us?"

"Malloy has a point, Hermione. I don't trust Slytherin. Look at—" Harry halted his words at the last minute, and his eyes darted over to Ginny before he looked away again.

Hermione pretended to not see it and said, "It's our only chance home." She paused. "It's a huge risk, and I'm sure Slytherin must feel that he's gaining something out of this, regardless of if it's information or something which we cannot foresee right now. However, unless we want to stay here for the rest of our lives, I think we should try it."

She glanced at each and every one of them, waiting for their decisions.

"What about …" Ginny trailed off and bit her lower lip, gazing at Hermione with uncertainty in her eyes.

In actuality, she did not need to finish her question. The fact that they were going to return to their time period soon meant that Hermione had to make a decision in regards to her relationship with Tom.

"The most important thing right now … is how to go home," Hermione said with some difficulty. "This … isn't our time period. We … belong … somewhere else."

Harry, Draco, and Ginny shared a glance, trying to make it as discreet as they could, and in the end, they did not make any objections to what Hermione said.

But whether it was because they were glad for any reason to get her away from Tom or because they could sense the sadness behind that brave front she was putting up, Hermione had no way of knowing.

~-0-~

The next morning came relatively quietly. The four time travelers each had a hard time going to sleep the previous night, seeing that they were so close, yet so far away from home. They sat at the edges of their seats during breakfast, and Hermione found it hard to concentrate on what Nicholas was trying to tell her. Her eyes kept floating over to the doorway where Tom would walk through.

"And so I think it would be a splendid way to improve the living conditions of house-elves," Nicholas was saying.

"Mm-hm," Hermione replied absentmindedly.

A crestfallen look appeared on Nicholas's face when he realized that she was not listening to what he was saying, and at that moment, Tom swept into the room.

Hermione leaned forward and bit her lower lip, suddenly at a loss of what to say.

"Good morning," Nicholas greeted Tom.

Nicholas paused, and his expression turned introspective as his eyes darted between Hermione and Tom.

"Good morning," Tom replied, the smile on his face more like a sneer than anything else. Hermione kept her eyes on him, preparing to speak to him the moment he sat down. Before she could say anything, however, he said in a low voice, "There's no need to be in such a hurry. I shall give you Slytherin's letter after breakfast."

Hermione sat, confused, for a second, before it sank into her mind that he had misinterpreted her glances. However, there were no ways for her explain herself—how could she possibly tell him that she was returning to the future?

After breakfast, Tom glanced at her before excusing himself. She followed suit, which earned further attention from Nicholas, who had been scrutinizing Tom and her actions throughout the meal. Upon seeing this, Ginny stood up, too.

"Better be careful, Hermione, or else you might find yourself being courted by Gryffindor and Hufflepuff heirs next," Ginny snickered softly as they walked up the stairs.

Tom was leaning against the wall next to the window at the end of the hallway, his arms folded across his chest, waiting for her.

"Take care," Ginny murmured to Hermione and went into their shared room.

Heaving a sigh, Hermione went up to him as she contemplated if she should allow him to speak first or should she just … say something. Nonetheless, before she could decide, he pushed himself away from the wall, took out a letter, and handed it to her.

"He wanted me to give this to you," Tom said, "in response to what you were asking about last night."

Hermione took the letter over, wondering if she should even open it in front of Tom. Despite being … a bit upset about having to leave him, she had not forgotten who he was and what she would be risking if he knew too much about the future.

"Aren't you going to open it?" Tom asked when she stood there for a while without doing anything.

She glanced at him and looked away. On top of everything else, she had no idea how much Slytherin had told Tom.

"I could always open it back in my room," she replied, taking care to watch his expressions without making it obvious.

Something flashed through Tom's eyes, and somehow, Hermione got the feeling that Slytherin had not told him too much about his conversation with her and Ginny last night. That made her slightly relieved, though she could not fathom why Slytherin hid that from his heir.

Tom shrugged after he recomposed himself. "I just thought it was something urgent, since you were in such a hurry to obtain it from me."

"Why would I be in a hurry for it?" she asked.

"Well, you were hardly paying attention when the other people were speaking to you," he replied, "even when it was the Heir of Ravenclaw who was talking to you."

"What does it have to do with Nicholas?" she questioned in matter-of-factly. "Besides, I didn't even know Slytherin gave the letter to you."

Tom fell silent. A moment later, he shifted his body. "I don't know." He paused. "Slytherin made it sound as if you knew I would be bringing you a letter."

They both fell silent, and an annoyed expression appeared on Tom's face for a split second. For a moment, Hermione thought he might say something again, but instead, he stared at her as if she were a particularly hard to solve riddle.

What should she say to him? "It was nice meeting you. We are going home now and don't bother looking for us again?"

Yes, she was sure that would be a cheery conversation, and judging from his reaction when she told him she could not … er … continue snogging him in between classes, he would take this kind of news wonderfully.

Not to mention the fact that he was acting like a prat for no reason these days. There was no guarantee he might take things the wrong way and fly off the handle on her again.

"Oh, for Merlin's sake," Hermione muttered in the end, and before Tom could react, she launched herself on him and looped her arms around his neck.

He crashed into the wall behind him with his back, and the grunt that escape his lips turned into a soft moan as she kissed him. After his initial shock, Tom's arms slipped around her waist and pulled her closer.

"You're mine," she thought he murmured against her lips as his hand slipped into her hair and pressed her towards him.

And no words were needed afterwards.

~-0-~

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **A/N** : Huge thanks to MaraudersWolf from PI and Nerys for beta-ing this chapter! 


	45. Chapter 45

**Chapter 45**

Getting away from Tom proved to be a hard feat, since he seemed rather adamant in finding out what Slytherin's letter said. Once she was safely within the confines of her room, she opened the letter and read it with Ginny.

_Since you are reading this letter, I trust that you must be somewhere away from the prying eyes of my heir. However, if the disgusting deficiency of your unfortunate bloodline decides to show its ugly self under the most inappropriate moment and you decided to open this in front of him, be assured that nothing that you've read (and will read) in this letter can be extracted by him or anyone else, unless you willingly disclose this information. Though your heritage tells me otherwise, I trust that you will not be so ridiculously stupid as to tell him._

"Biased old primate," Ginny hissed, realizing that Slytherin was addressing Hermione.

The victim, on the other hand, snorted. After years of practice with Draco and his insults, Slytherin's words could not possibly arouse any emotions from Hermione.

_On the twenty-second of this month, this letter will turn into a map, and you are to travel into the forest with your time-traveling friends to the place where I had met with my heir. I shall give you the objects that will take you into the Chamber when you return to the future and will protect you from further assaults by the person who had sent you back in time._

"That's three days from today," Ginny commented, a frown appearing on her forehead. "Why would he need three days?"

"No idea." Hermione stared at the end of the note. "To prepare the spell, maybe? After all, Tom made us wait, and that spell was created by Slytherin, too."

"Right," Ginny said mockingly. "Such a brilliant spell it was, which blew up in our face and nearly got us killed. I still have bruises from that accident."

Hermione bit her lower lip, wondering if she should tell Ginny something that had been nagging her since the first day they'd arrived in Germany. Taking a deep sigh, she leaned a bit backwards, away from the letter.

"To tell the truth …" Hermione started.

Ginny looked away from the letter and at her.

Hermione heaved a sigh and continued, "I'm having doubts in regards to if Tom's as innocent as he pretended to be."

Ginny gazed at her in surprise. "You mean … you think he might've messed up on purpose?"

Hermione nodded slowly. "I've been thinking about it for days already, and I can't figure out how that could've escaped his notice … the fact that the eclipse might interfere with the spell. Though he can be careless at times, we had been talking about the eclipse for weeks. Even if the spell hadn't been tested under special circumstances before, he would've taken some precautions beforehand. Runes were involved in the spell, and since we each had a different section, I don't know what you or Draco had to carve. He could've easily altered something to cause it to happen."

"But why would he do something like this? He hasn't killed Harry and Draco—thankfully—so what's his purpose? Do you think he might've known that Slytherin's living in this area?" Ginny asked.

Hermione shook her head. "No, I doubt he knew Slytherin was here. Perhaps there was something else he wanted … there must be something else he wanted. He couldn't have wanted to travel here with us just because he suspected we were up to something. It just doesn't make sense."

"Grindelwald!" Ginny suddenly said.

Hermione stared at her. "What?"

"Grindelwald," Ginny repeated herself. "What if he wanted to come here to meet Grindelwald? Grindelwald's the Dark Lord of this period, isn't he? Maybe Riddle wanted to come here and see if there was something he could gain from him."

Hermione paused, and after a moment of thinking, she said, "Maybe … but it doesn't make sense for him to work under a Dark Lord when he wants to become one himself. Grindelwald was more active in central Europe and Voldemort wanted to take over England most of the time, so it would be strange for Tom to want to seek Grindelwald out."

Ginny nodded, the frown on her forehead deepening. With a sigh, she said, "Let's hope whatever he's planning, it won't affect the future too much. We are returning home in three days after all."

Hermione let out a heavy sigh. "Let's hope."

~-0-~

To prevent Harry and Draco from worrying too much, Hermione and Ginny decided to keep their conversation a secret for the time being. Besides, Hermione doubted that the boys could come up with an answer anyway. When it was nearly time for lunch, the two of them traveled downstairs and was met with a strange scene—or at least, strange to Hermione.

Tom was sitting in one of the armchairs, his expression indecipherable as usual. The strangeness came from Nicholas. Instead of his usual happy-go-lucky demeanor, his face was set with certain harshness to it, as if he was angry about something.

Hermione and Ginny stood at the doorway and shared a look with one another, unsure about whether they should step into the room or not.

Once his eyes landed on Hermione, however, Nicholas's face softened.

"Hello," he greeted them.

They gave him an uneasy smile in return, and Hermione could not help but feel that Nicholas's smile was strained. After his greeting, he fell silent, which was also strange, considering his usual chatty personality. His eyes remained on Tom, but once in a while, they would dart over to Hermione.

Without warning, Hermione's cheeks burned as she wondered what Tom had told Nicholas. Before she could ask what had happened, Dietfried appeared and announced that lunch was ready.

If anything, the tension in the air increased once they arrived at the dining table. Instead of sitting at his usual seat, Nicholas approached Ginny, who was sitting next to Hermione with a smile.

"Do you mind if I change seats with you, Miss Weatherby? I would like to sit next to Hermione so that we can chat more easily," he said.

Ginny exchanged a quick look with Hermione but dare not look at the person who was already sitting on the other side of Hermione.

The corner of Ginny's lips twitched upwards before she answered, "We'll just move one seat over." She then shared a look with Harry, who was sitting next to her.

"Thank you," Nicholas said. He then turned over to Hermione. "It's a bit difficult chatting across the table. It almost seems as if we're forcing others to listen to our conversation, so I figured it might be easier for me to sit next to you."

"Er …"

Hermione had no idea how to reply to him, and the fact that Draco was shaking with laughter on the other side of the table did not help much. A cross between worry and amusement was etched on Harry's face. However, none of this seemed to affect Nicholas, who sat down with a bright smile.

"I'm going to collect information about the creatures in the forest tomorrow again," Nicholas announced, catching everyone's attention. His eyes, however, were on Hermione. "Would you like to go with me?"

Hermione blinked before a faint blush appeared on her face. For some reason, though he was doing something pertaining to the field he worked in, it sounded almost like he was asking her on a date.

Draco suddenly snorted before turning it into a cough. He held up his hand, indicating that he was okay. His eyes then met with Hermione before they flitted over to her right, causing him to cover his mouth again and duck under the table.

Hermione's heart jumped, realizing that the look on Tom's face due to Nicholas's question must have been what Draco found funny.

"I … er … we … Harry, Draco, Ginny, and I still have some things to do, since we might be returning … to Hogwarts soon," she replied.

A crestfallen expression appeared on Nicholas's face.

"Oh, you don't have to worry about it, Hermione. If you really want to go, we think you deserve the break. After all, you've been the one doing most of the work," Harry commented offhandedly.

Hermione stared at him, but before she could say anything, Ginny piped in, "We've got the rest covered. So if you really want to go, it's fine with us."

The repetition of "if you really want to go" made it obvious that if she said anything else, it would be because she  ** _did_**  not want to go. However, it was also clear to Hermione that Nicholas's feelings would be hurt if that were to happen, and the hopefulness on his face made Hermione guilty.

She cast a quick look at Tom and could not stop a shiver from running down her spine. She had underestimated his displeasure in Nicholas's proposal. His jaws were clenched together, and the hand he had placed on the table was rolled up into a fist. Hermione had no doubt that the fingers of his other hand were curled around the base of his wand. Black fires burned in the depths of his slightly narrowed eyes, and what Hermione feared was the fact that if they could cause harm, the targets would include Harry and Ginny, too.

Before she could tell Nicholas that she really could not make it tomorrow, a corner of Tom's lips curled upwards. Draco, who had reappeared from under the table, stopped laughing when he saw that chilling smile.

"That sounds quite … interesting," Tom said, his voice not betraying a hint of his fury. In fact, the coldness on his face receded until it only remained in his eyes. "I'm sure you wouldn't mind if I joined in then, would you, Mr. Lockhart-Lovegood?"

Nicholas froze, thrown off by Tom's question. Ginny shifted in her seat, worry and discomfort written all over her face.

"Perhaps we should all go tomorrow then," Harry suggested, carefully monitoring Tom's face.

A touch of mockery entered Tom's smile. "That's a splendid idea, Mr. Evans. I trust that Mr. Lockhart-Lovegood here could definitely teach all of us a …  ** _valuable lesson_**  about the creatures living in the forest," Tom said. His voice, though soft, thrummed heavily upon the hearts of every person present.

Nicholas coughed softly, catching everyone's attention once again. He seemed flustered by the outcome of things, and Hermione wondered if his nervousness had anything to do with the danger signals that were rolling off Tom like waves in the ocean.

"Wonderful … so we'll head out after breakfast?" Nicholas asked, trying hard to pull his lips back up into a smile.

"But wait … what about the trolls?" Draco asked fearfully.

"We're going down a route that I know already. The only reason I didn't know about the trolls was because I took a different route from the one I usually go," Nicholas explained. "If only I stuck to the same route …" His eyes dimmed, obviously remembering his dead comrade. A few minutes later, he recomposed his expression and said, "There are definitely no trolls there."

A murmur of consents came from the time travelers.

Tom's smile widened, yet it did not reach his eyes.

After the strained lunch, Hermione pulled Harry and Draco to her room with Ginny following closely after them. Once they were inside, Hermione put up the wards before whirling around towards them.

" ** _What_**  were you thinking? Did you realize what kind of danger you were pushing Nicholas into? Do you have any idea what Tom might do to him because of this?" Hermione screeched before turning towards Draco.

He held his hands up and gulped when he saw the furious look on her face.

" ** _You_** ," Hermione hissed.

"I didn't do anything," Draco immediately said.

"That's precisely the problem! You just sat there and … and laughed! As if you were watching some kind of comedy! Do you realize that what the three of you had done can lead Nicholas to his death?" Hermione ranted.

"We didn't know he'd have such a huge reaction," Harry said, an apologetic expression on his face. "No, really, Hermione. We didn't know … well … that he would care so much about …" Harry trailed off, his eyes larger than usual behind his glasses.

"That's  ** _not_**  an excuse," Hermione fumed, her eyes blazing. "If anything happens to Nicholas, it would be  ** _all your_** _fault_ , all three of yours! I can't believe you. As if I didn't have enough things to sort out before we return to the future."

Draco and Harry moved awkwardly in their seats while the guilty look on Ginny's face became even more prominent.

"Did the three of you forget who we're dealing with? It's Tom Riddle, not Ron Weasley. He's not going to just call Nicholas ' ** _Nicky_** ,' grumble about it, and then let it slide," Hermione continued. "He doesn't deal with his displeasure like normal witches and wizards do. He's going to do something extreme about this. I just know he will."

"We'll all look after Nick—Nicholas tomorrow then. With all four of us there, I don't think Riddle would do something to him, would he?" Ginny asked.

The doubt in her voice, however, spoke more than words. It was impossible for Tom to not do something.

"What do you think?" Hermione asked in return. "And I'm not just worried about Nicholas. The three of you had to do something to provoke him. I wouldn't even be surprised if he tries to do something to you—"

"Are you serious?" Draco interrupted her, jolting backwards in his seat. "But—but I didn't do anything. He can't possibly want to do something to me just because I sat there and laughed, can he?"

"And at whom were you laughing?" Hermione asked, plastering a smile on her face though there were no traces of humor in it. "You can't tell me that you were staring at Tom and laughing at Nicholas now, can you? No, he knows precisely who you were laughing at, and does it look like he would be pleased?"

She took a deep breath, closed her eyes, and counted to ten. The other three people in the room remained quiet, perhaps afraid that she might start reprimanding them again if they spoke.

"Whatever you do tomorrow, stay together. He's not going to be so rash as to try to take all three of you at once, especially when he knows that there's something strange between Harry’s and his wands," Hermione said, her voice slightly calmer.

The three of them murmured their assents, and they all fell silent again, each immersed in their own thoughts.

There were so many things Hermione wanted to say, but when she opened her mouth, nothing came out. At this point in time, she could only wish that everything would turn out all right.

~-0-~

In contrast to Hermione's mood, the sun shone brightly the next morning. There was not a speck of cloud to be seen in the skies, which was strange considering how it had snowed for the last couple of days. The white blankets covering the streets had not melted yet, indicating that there had not been any significant increase in temperature.

Dietfried was nowhere to be seen after breakfast again, so the group of them left after informing Ernsta that they would be out most of the day.

The walk to the forest was uncomfortably quiet. Even Nicholas remained oddly silent. Draco kept as far away from Tom as he could, and whenever he was forced to walk closer, he would stay right beside Harry, much to the Chosen One's annoyance. In Hermione's opinion, however, Draco was being silly; the person who should be wary about Tom's attention was Nicholas. Therefore, Hermione made sure to stay in between the two Founder heirs.

Little did she know that once they were inside the forest, that task would be much harder.

The dejected expression on Nicholas's face turned into one of enthusiasm after they passed through the first line of trees, and he started hurrying past places where there were no particular points of interest to him.

"Do you see the marks here? They must have been made by fairies," Nicholas said excitedly, pointing at little symbols carved into a tree.

Then, he continued to chatter on about fairies as he climbed through the snow, trying to find more traces of creatures. Thirty minutes later, Hermione was left panting and trying to keep her eyes on everyone.

Nicholas was disappearing and reappearing between trees a few meters ahead of her. Harry, Ginny, and Draco were trailing closely behind her. Draco occasionally cast looks of fear and caution towards Tom, who was mere steps behind them.

"Try and keep the leash on your raven, Hermione. He's flying all over the place, and I wouldn't be surprised if we lose sight of him soon," Tom called out, the quirk of his eyebrow upwards adding another inch of sarcasm to his words.

Hermione cast a quick glance towards Harry and the others. Harry gave her a reassuring smile back, which she returned before looking back at Nicholas. He was, after all, in a more vulnerable state than the three of them. At least Harry, Ginny, and Draco knew they had to be careful when they were dealing with Lord Voldemort.

Another hour later, half of Hermione's mind started considering Tom's suggestion. Nicholas was practically all over the place, and it was impossible to try and catch up with him. For a moment, Hermione wondered if Nicholas had merely asked her to come here for exercise. He would turn around, once in a while, to tell them what traces of creatures he had found, but before they could even answer, he would return to his hunting.

"This is becoming impossible, Hermione," Ginny said in a low voice beside her. "Even with Anti-Slipping spells, there's no way we can catch up with him if he continues to run off like that. Riddle's going to find a way to take advantage of that."

Hermione nodded in agreement as her eyebrows furrowed in worry.

Suddenly, someone grabbed her arm. She turned around, alarmed, and her fingers quickly tightened around the base of her wand. When she realized it was Draco, she relaxed, but the frantic look on his face caused worry to increase again.

"What's the matter?" she asked.

"Riddle's gone." His eyes were wide, flitting through the trees as if he expected Tom to jump out any second and attack them.

"Riddle's—" Hermione's mouth snapped shut as she, too, quickly glanced around.

However, true to Draco's words, Tom was nowhere to be seen.

"When did he disappear?" Hermione asked.

"We have no idea," Harry spoke up, his wand out and at the ready. "I kept a Shield Charm up while we were walking, so I didn't bother looking back to see if Riddle tried to harm us. It was Malloy who realized Riddle was no longer behind us."

"Good thing Nic—" Ginny stopped in her words when she turned around to look forward. She swirled around. "Where's Nicholas?"

Hermione's eyes snapped to where she had last seen Nicholas. However, he, too, was nowhere in sight.

 _Shit_.

They had to be kidding her. This had to be some kind of nightmare, created by her subconscious because she was afraid it was what would happen.

"What are we going to do?" Draco asked.

Hermione wanted to slump down in the snow and bury her head in her hands. Nonetheless, she knew that was not going to help at all.

"We'd have to try to find them," Hermione concluded after casting a quick  _Muffliato_  on their surroundings. She looked at Harry. "Harry, you and Draco follow our tracks back and check where Tom might have gone off on a different path. Do you have your invisibility cloak with you?"

Harry nodded and showed her the cloak, which he had hidden underneath his traveling cloak.

"Ginny and I will go and follow Nicholas's tracks," Hermione said.

"Wait—but what if Riddle catches us?" Draco asked, alarmed.

Hermione's nostrils flared, annoyed that they were wasting precious time when Nicholas could've fallen in Tom's hands already. "Fine! You and Harry follow Nicholas's tracks, and Ginny and I will follow Tom's tracks."

"Wait, no!" Harry protested, casting a quick glance at Ginny before looking at Hermione. "I'll go with you instead."

Draco paled.

"Fine!" Hermione growled, exasperated. "Harry and I will go after Tom, and—now  ** _what_**?" She glared at Draco who was tugging on her arm.

"Don't worry, Malloy. I'll protect you from your master," Ginny said mockingly on the side. "How about I turn you into a ferret if we catch a glimpse of him and hide you from his view?"

Without waiting for further disruptions, Hermione grabbed Harry's invisibility cloak and threw it over the two of them.

Thankfully, they were the only ones who had come into the forest that morning, so there weren't too many tracks in the snow. Nonetheless, it was still difficult, trying to wade through so much snow at a fast pace. By the time they found where there were tracks leading in a different direction from the one they had gone, both Hermione and Harry were already panting and sweating.

Harry stared at Tom's tracks with his mouth open. "How did—He was with us after this point. I recall Malloy looking backwards and moving closer to me." He pointed at a rock. "Nicholas said something about Mooncalves here."

Hermione nodded, recalling the rock. She had heard Harry telling Draco to "quit it and get some nerves" a small distance from here, too.

"We can't dwell on that right now. If Tom went off in a different direction from here, he would have plenty of time to—" Hermione stopped in her words and slapped her hand over her mouth.

"What is it?" Harry asked worriedly.

"Slytherin," Hermione whispered. "We've forgotten to factor in Slytherin. What if he's helping Tom? Then they could easily set up a trap for Nicholas—"

"Why would Slytherin try to harm Nicholas though?" Harry asked.

"I don't know, but it's something we cannot ignore. We have to find them before something happens," Hermione spoke quickly.

She recast the Anti-Slipping spells, but before she could take a step forward, Harry grabbed her arm.

"Ginny and Malloy. If Slytherin is in on this, what if he harms them?" Harry reminded her, his voice frantic.

"Slytherin took the Unbreakable Vow with Ginny and me. He wouldn't risk his life to kill the two of them," Hermione replied.

"But still . . . What if he just disarmed them or something and let Riddle do the dirty work? We'd have to warn them." Harry looked in the direction Ginny and Draco had gone, concern etched on every feature of his face.

Hermione bit the inside of her cheek before making a decision. "Okay. You go and warn Ginny and Draco. I'll go after Riddle."

"That's too dangerous, Hermione," Harry immediately objected.

"We don't know what he's up to yet, Harry. I'm not going to be in immediate danger yet," Hermione reassured him.

"But what if he's doing something dangerous? What if he's doing something he doesn't want others to know?"

Hermione had to stop herself from mentioning the fact that Tom had already taken her down to the Chamber of Secrets before—she had no desire to activate the curse he had placed on her, especially under these circumstances. Letting her know that he was the one who had killed Myrtle was a huge risk on Tom's part, after all.

"I know how to handle him," Hermione said.

Harry stared at her for a second, not knowing how to answer that. In the end, embarrassment appeared briefly on his face and he said, "Er … yeah … I noticed …"

His discomfort had contagious effects, causing Hermione to shift in her position. "Right … so you follow Ginny and Draco. I have to catch up with Riddle, hopefully before he finds Nicholas, or rather, hopefully before he does something to Nicholas."

"Are you sure about this, Hermione?" Harry's forehead creased. "I feel unsure about this. I mean … you and him are …  ** _close_** , but what if—"

"I'll be fine, Harry. Just take the invisibility cloak with you and go," Hermione said.

Harry shook his head. "No, you take it with you."

"You'll probably need it. Who knows if you'll encounter Slytherin or not?" Hermione argued.

"But like you've said, he promised not to harm us. And besides, there are three of us. You're going off by yourself. Take the cloak with you, Hermione," Harry insisted.

After a while of convincing, Hermione finally conceded, and Harry went in the direction Ginny and Draco had gone off in, though not before reminding her to Apparate out of the place if things got too dangerous. Hermione reassured him that she would and then hurried after Tom.

The stall in time only made her more worried, and she feared what she might find at the end of her search. However, nothing could have prepared her for what she saw at the end of tracks.

Tom stood in the middle of the snow. The black cloak swirled around him like a dark cloud, and the cruel calmness on his face reminded her so much of the snake-man he would become in the future that she could not suppress a gasp from being constricted out of her.

Yet, her breath got caught and horror appeared on her face the moment she recognized the corpse in the snow at Lord Voldemort's feet with its eyes wide open.

Dietfried Kaufmann was dead.

~-0-~

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **A/N** : Many thanks to MaraudersWolf for beta-ing this chapter! 


	46. Chapter 46

**Chapter 46**

Tom's eyes flickered from Dietfried's body towards where Hermione was standing, hidden underneath the invisibility cloak.

"Who's there?"

Completely forgetting Harry's warnings, she pulled off the cloak and stalked towards him.

In contrast to Hermione, Tom's body visibly relaxed upon realizing who it was and a single eyebrow rose in answer to her rage.

" ** _You_** ," she hissed when she stopped right in front of him. "And here I was  ** _worried_**  that it was Nicholas you might have killed. But apparently, I have to put a Trace Charm on every person we come across, don't I?"

"A Trace Charm," Tom snickered and muttered. "If only you knew how easily it could be dispelled." Before Hermione could say anything, he continued, "You've known about Myrtle. So what did you expect? For me to start handing out lemon drops like Dumbledore?"

"Argh!" Hermione screamed out and threw her hands up in frustration.

She had to use all the control she had to stop herself from pummeling him the Muggle wa—

Forget it.

With all the strength she could muster, she threw a fist at him, but he easily caught it, the amusement on his face growing by the second. That, in turn, made her even angrier, so her hand flew to her pocket, in search of her wand. Before she could find it, he swirled her around, so that her back was towards him and making her fall into his embrace.

"Good Merlin, you're viole—"

Tom's words turned into a hiss the moment her foot stomped down on his, and taking that chance, Hermione struggled out of his hold.

"Why did you kill Dietfried? What did he do to you now? For all I know, Slytherin doesn't have a Chamber of Secrets here for him to find. Or did he forget to pass you the butter this morning?" Hermione sneered once she turned around to face him.

Tom rolled his eyes. "No, he forgot to brew coffee for me this morning, and you lot all had two biscuits while I only had one."

"Don't play cute with me, Tom Marvolo Riddle—"

He snorted at her words.

"—Dietfried had been nothing short of kind to us throughout our whole stay, and he took care of us after we've nearly gotten killed by those trolls. There are no reasons for you to kill him."

Guilt flooded through Hermione as she realized that she could've saved Dietfried from his death. If only she had stopped them from coming into the forest today. She had only been worried about Nicholas, but she had no idea that others would have been in danger, too.

And then it hit her.

"Where's Nicholas?" she asked, her eyes slightly narrowed.

Tom raised an eyebrow at her and crossed his arms over his chest. The expressions on his face receded until it became that blank façade again.

"Weren't you the one who was following him?" he asked quietly.

Under other circumstances, Hermione would've heard the dangerous undertone of his voice. Unfortunately, now was not one of those times.

Nor did she care.

"You were the one who set everything up, weren't you? You've lured Nicholas away, preparing to kill him, but got caught by Dietfried. That was why you killed him, didn't you? You killed Dietfried because he saved Nicholas from you," Hermione accused. "What were you thinking? We came to Germany to save Dumbledore—"

" ** _You_** came here to rescue Dumbledore, Granger," Tom corrected as he twirled the wand in his hand casually. "I never said I was here to save anyone."

"Oh right, I've forgotten. Your biggest ambition in life is to cause a bit of havoc here and a bit of wreckage there," Hermione said sarcastically. "I just never realized that you were so adamant in getting yourself arrested that you'll just find an innocent bystander to kill."

"Who said anything about getting arrested?" Tom asked, amusement returning to his voice and face.

" ** _What_**?"

He did not answer her. Instead, he tilted his head sideways and scrutinized her. "Funny how you know  ** _everything_**  about my biggest ambitions."

"This is not a time to play cat and mouse or speak in riddles, Tom!" Hermione snapped.

Tom nodded. "Touché. I only have approximately twenty minutes to get everything done."

"What do you mean?" Hermione asked cautiously.

Her fingers wrapped around her wand, preparing for the attack that might occur any second.

"As exciting as your theory about why Dietfried died might be, I'm afraid that that's not the right answer," Tom replied. His lips curved into a faint smile. "My apologies, Hermione."

Immediately, her wand was out.

But before she knew it, a spell impacted her from behind, and she fell to the floor, unconscious.

~-0-~

When she woke up, she was no longer in the forest. In fact, nothing about her surroundings seemed familiar to her.

_Where am I?_

The words Tom had said before she was knocked out came back to her, and for a moment, she wondered with fear if Tom was going to blame Dietfried's death on her.

"Harry, Hermione's awake!" she heard Ginny exclaim, and the redhead came into her line of sight seconds later. "Hermione, are you all right?"

Hermione nodded as she blinked her eyes a couple of times to clear the blurriness away.

"Where are we?" she asked, pushing herself up to sitting position.

They were clearly not in some kind of refuge. Merlin's pants, this place could not be even called a prisoner's cell. It reminded Hermione of those cages used to house lions and tigers for circuses.

"Welcome to our new home," Draco's voice sounded from behind her.

She turned her head around and found Draco sitting at the corner, a distraught expression on his face.

"Great … this is just great. Can you believe this? The old coot gets a bed, and we get a cage," Draco muttered sulkily.

Hermione followed his line of sight, only to discover that Albus Dumbledore was lying on the bed a few meters away from them.

"Professor … Professor!" Hermione called out.

However, he did not answer them. His eyes remained closed, and if it were not for the steady up and down movements of his chest, she would have thought him dead.

"Professor Dumbledore!" Hermione tried again.

"It's no use, Hermione. We've tried for nearly an hour already," Ginny said.

"Well, as far as I'm concerned, there's really no point in waking him up, Granger," Draco said. "The old coot really has a knack for choosing the greatest batch of friends. Not only was he friends with the mass murderer Gellert Grindelwald, he manages to befriend Salazar Slytherin. Who next? Merlin?"

"We're at Slytherin's place, aren't we?" Hermione asked Ginny and Harry, determined to ignore Draco who was going off on one of his rants again.

"Yes. We tried to follow after Nicholas, but …" Ginny trailed off. "I think it was all a trap, Hermione."

"It's too late to think about that. We'd have to find a way to get out of here," Hermione said in a low voice.

"And how do you think we can do that without our wands or Potty's invisibility cloak?" Draco asked from his corner. "I don't think old Sparkly Eyes is much help here anyway, awake or unconscious, the old hypocrite."

"What are you going on about, Malloy?" Harry asked, annoyed.

"Didn't you read Skeeter's book about how he wanted to rule over Muggles? Apparently, he's not much better off than Snakeface," Draco answered.

"As if you're any better," Ginny huffed.

A soft tinge of pink appeared on Draco's face. "I never tried to take over the world."

"Professor Dumbledore was misled by Grindelwald," Harry spoke up.

Draco rolled his eyes. "Did Dumbledore ever appear to be a naïve person to you? Certainly not to me. As far as I know, he knew how to manipulate people just as well as Snakeface did, and he probably knew half of the things that were going to happen but didn't even try to stop it."

"He probably just wanted to give others a chance. If he did everything for us, then we wouldn't have known how to get things done when he's not around," Harry argued.

" ** _Right_** , because it's absolutely normal to pit a seventeen-year-old—oh wait, you were eleven when you first encountered him, weren't you, Potty? —an  ** _eleven-year-old_**  against a sixty-something-year-old most feared wizard in history. That sounds like a sane idea to me, especially when he probably could've easily defeated Snakeface," Draco mocked.

Harry's mouth snapped shut, and he and Ginny shared a look with one another but could not come up with something to say back to Draco. Even Hermione could not think of anything to say in Dumbledore's defense. Regardless of what Dumbledore’s intentions were, he was taking too much of a risk when he allowed Harry to fight Voldemort. What if Voldemort had won? What if Harry hadn't gotten the Elder Wand in the end? The wizarding world would have been left in the hands of the Dark Lord.

"Just because he's Dumbledore doesn't mean he always does the right things. You do tend to believe the best in people, don't you, Saint Potty?" Draco continued. "Oh, right. Didn't you offer **_someone_**  the chance to show remorse for what he had done? Had you even considered what would have happened if he had said ‘yes?’ We would have been stuck with him. Forever."

"We still are," Ginny spoke up.

"All thanks to Saint Potty here," Draco said.

"Well, we wouldn't have been here if you hadn't gone into Borgin and Burkes," Ginny countered.

"Yes, and I hired the two of you to become my nannies, didn't I?" Draco sneered.

"If you hadn't looked like you were doing something suspicious—"

"And how does that concern you, Potty?" Draco interrupted. "Perhaps you should learn to mind your own business next time."

"Yes, and we know what happened the last time you lurked around down there in Knockturn Alley," Ginny bit back.

"Will the three of you stop it already?" Hermione, feeling that things were getting out of hand, interrupted and glared at each of them in turn. "It's not a time for arguments right now."

After giving both Ginny and Harry an angry look each, Draco slouched down in his place again.

"Great, I'm locked up here like a blasted flobberworm," he muttered.

"Thought you would've gotten used to it with Snakeface taking over your house last year," Ginny said scathingly.

"No, he had to barter with Mr. Borgin, remember? And fix Vanishing Cabinets for You-Know-Who," Harry corrected her.

"That's  ** _enough_** ," Hermione reprimanded. "The three of you had to pick this time to argue, didn't you? Do I need to remind you what kind of situation we are in right now? Dietfried's already dead, and we have no idea what happened to Nicho—"

"Dietfried's dead?" Harry and Draco asked in unison, disbelief and horror etched on their faces.

"Yes," Hermione replied, her shoulders slumping down as she remembered how kind Dietfried had been to them for the last few days.

She felt the familiar feeling of guilt churning in her stomach. If only she had been a bit more careful, she might have noticed signs that Tom was going to kill him. She might have even saved him. All she had been worried about was Tom's displeasure towards Nicholas … and remembering about Nicholas, she wondered if he was alright. Did Tom kill him, too?

"Why?" Harry asked in a whisper.

Hermione shook her head. "I have no idea."

"Riddle …" Harry stopped in his words, though his eyes still held the question.

"Yes," Hermione answered heavily. "Tom killed Dietfried." She heaved a sigh. "Before I could get to the bottom of it, someone hit me with a spell from behind. That's why we're here, I suppose, so we can't tell others who killed Dietfried."

"It must have been Slytherin who attacked you. He was the one who had captured us, too," Harry concluded. He paused as a frown appeared on his forehead. "Why would Riddle kill Dietfried? There's no reason for him to do that … Could it be because of Nicholas?"

Hermione shook her head. "I accused Tom of killing Dietfried for saving Nicholas, but he said that I had it wrong."

The four of them fell silent, and after a while, Hermione turned towards Draco. His previous argument with Harry and Ginny reminded her of a question she had wanted to ask.

"What were you buying in Borgin and Burkes anyway? Isn't four hundred Galleons a bit much?" she asked.

Draco shrugged. "Father told me to barter with Borgin and said that anything from three hundred and fifty Galleons to four hundred Galleons would be all right."

"Three hundred and fifty Galleons is still a lot," Hermione pointed out.

"He didn't give me an explanation when I asked him," Draco replied.

"You still haven't said what it was," Hermione reminded him.

Draco shook his head. "I have no idea what it is. I just know it's called 'The Coin of Charon,' but I've never read about it in—"

"The Coin of Charon?" Hermione asked, surprise written all over her face. "But nobody's seen one for nearly a thousand years already."

"What's the Coin of Charon?" Harry asked.

Hermione took a deep breath and shifted to a more comfortable position before she began her explanation.

"According to legend, there is a total of forty-nine of them scattered across Earth. The Ancient Egyptians called them the Rings of Osiris, but the Greek witches and wizards call them the Coins of Charon because according to legend, that's what Charon the boat keeper is looking for."

"Wait, doesn't Charon carry souls across the rivers to hell in Greek  ** _myths_**? How would people know that that's what he's looking for?" Draco pointed out.

"Well, as I've said, everything's a legend," Hermione said. "It's said that holding a Coin of Charon could insure the return of a dead soul."

"The return of a dead soul?" Draco asked, scrunching up his face.

"I think they mean bringing a person back to life," Hermione answered.

Draco's face turned pale, and Harry's head snapped towards him.

"Is your father trying to bring You-Know-Who back? After what happened last year?" Harry's voice took on a harsher edge again as his eyes bored into Draco's.

"Is he mental? Or did he get addicted to having someone run his household for him?" asked Ginny, disbelief laced through her words.

Draco's mouth opened and closed a couple of times, but nothing came out. In the end, he laughed nervously.

"Wait … we're … we're jumping to conclusions … Father couldn't … Father wouldn't think about bringing Snakeface back to life. It's impossible," he said.

Hermione bit her lower lip. For the life of her, she could not comprehend why Lucius Malfoy would want to bring Lord Voldemort back to life. If anything, the Malfoys would be the  ** _last_**  Death Eaters who would want the Dark Lord back.

"He's right, Harry. We can't jump to conclusions," she finally said. "It could be because he saw it as an ancient artifact and wanted to collect it, and he could definitely sell a Coin of Charon at a much higher price than four hundred Galleons."

"We still can't rule out the possibility that Lucius Malfoy might be trying to bring You-Know-Who back to life, Hermione," Harry insisted.

A doubtful expression appeared on Hermione's face, but she knew that this was not the best time to argue with him.

Instead, she said, "We only have guesses now and we can't be sure about anything yet. Besides, we're probably returning to a different future from the one we know. Biting Draco's head off right now won't help us. He doesn't know anything about it anyway."

Frowns of worry appeared on both Harry and Ginny's faces at the prospect of returning to a different future; panic was apparent on Draco's face, though he remained quiet, too.

However, the silence did not continue for long.

With a slam of the door, a tall, thin figure swirled into the room.

"Ah, so the little Mudblood is awake. Good. That means I wouldn't have to repeat myself," Slytherin leered as he sat down in a chair between Dumbledore's bed and their cage.

"Why did you kill Dietfried?" Hermione immediately asked.

"Lost your brains in the snow, Mudblood? My  ** _heir_**  killed dear Dietfried, not me," Slytherin said.

"Fine," Hermione snapped. "Why did he kill Dietfried?"

"It's none of your concern anymore, is it? You're going home soon anyway," Slytherin answered, tapping his fingers on the armrest and a vicious smile on his face.

"It was not supposed to happen in the timeline we knew. If it's going to change the future as we know it, we might as well get prepared for it," Hermione argued.

She didn't really know if Dietfried died or not in the timeline they had come from, but she was sure that Tom did not travel to Germany in his last year at Hogwarts.

"Well, then that's your problem now, isn't it, Mudblood?" Slytherin asked. He leaned forward, his eyes narrowing into mere slits. "The nerve of such despicable being, seducing my heir."

His words of spite came so unexpectedly that it caused all four time travelers to stare at him. However, their state of shock had no effect on him, and he continued to speak.

"I would've killed you the first minute I had the chance to if I could. And to think that my heir thought about saving  ** _you_**. As if I would allow such impurity to blemish my bloodline," Slytherin hissed, his hand rolled into a white-knuckled fist around his wand. "Granted, you are quite …  ** _different_**  from other filthy Muggles and Mudbloods, but dirty blood is dirty blood."

"Dirty blood," Hermione sniffed. "I'm sure you're so incredibly happy then that your heir is a  ** _half-blood_**."

Draco let out a muffled, strangled noise from his corner, but Hermione was beyond caring, especially since Slytherin himself had said that he (for some unknown reason) could not kill her.

"Which is why I can't have you around, little Mudblood," Slytherin said through gritted teeth. "Having a half-blood as an heir is already enough of an insult to last me until the end of time. If he had boys with you, they'll all be  ** _Mudbloods_**. I do not need  ** _Mudbloods_**  in my noble line."

Hermione opened her mouth and was about to say something, but Draco tugged on her sleeve and pleaded her with his eyes to remain quiet. Harry and Ginny, on the other hand, were staring at Slytherin as if he had grown five heads within the last twenty seconds. Embarrassment painted Hermione's cheeks red when she realized that it was because Slytherin had insinuated that Tom and her relationship had gone beyond snogging sessions.

"No … you need to go back to the future to where you belong and far away from my heir," Slytherin continued to say. "I knew the lot of you was no good filth, determined to undermine the purity of bloodlines. First, that Muggle Riddle and now  ** _you_**."

At his glare and words, Hermione's discomfort was replaced by annoyance, and before anyone could stop her, words started tumbling out of her mouth like a waterfall.

"Yes, because all of us know how excellent your line of heritage became in the end. Let's see then: Marvolo Gaunt and Morfin Gaunt, both with nasty tempers and in great need of anger management classes. Do I need to mention that there was also something very wrong with Morfin's head? And what caused all of this? Because of your stupid views about how there shouldn't be **_mixed blood_**. Generations and generations of inbreeding caused all these problems, and you, as a so-called researcher, should know something so basic. Even normal Muggles with a few years of education should know that, and here you are, claiming how noble your bloodline is, when it will simply  ** _die out_** in a few years when Morfin dies, if Merope hadn't used a Love Potion on To-"

"SILENCE!" Slytherin screamed, standing up from his chair, all signs of patience and calmness gone and replaced by anger.

Hermione's mouth snapped shut, but somehow, she was unable to bring herself to back down. The logical side of her brain was telling her to look down, look anywhere but at the livid Slytherin. But the louder, much more full of pride side of mind refused to do so.

She knew she was right.

Just when they thought Hermione was doomed for sure, Slytherin turned stiffly on the spot and stormed out of the room, slamming the door shut behind him.

Simultaneously, Harry, Ginny, and Draco let out the breaths that they had been holding.

"Hermione …" Harry exhaled. He opened and closed his mouth a couple of times, though nothing came out.

"Thank Merlin nothing happened," Ginny whispered, her freckles more apparent than usual against her pale face. "I thought he was going hurt you."

"Do you have to piss off everyone from that line?" Draco asked when he finally found his voice back.

"I don't know everyone in that line," Hermione retorted. "Though if I could, I'd give them a piece of my mind."

And Draco looked as if he was very glad that she could not do just that.

~-0-~

With a grunt, Draco threw the piece of bread on the floor.

"For Merlin's sake, can't he bring us something else to eat? How many days of white bread does he think we can take?" he complained.

Hermione lowered the bread in her hand.

"Be grateful that it's not poisoned," Ginny replied wryly.

"Killing us by poison would be stupid when he has us trapped in a cage already," said Draco.

"Well, we wouldn't have to suffer too many more meals of this," Ginny said, biting into her piece of bread. "Today should be the day he's sending us back, shouldn't it?"

"Oh, right." Draco's face brightened and he sat up straighter. "Three days, right?"

Ginny nodded. "And today should be the third day."

It had been three days already. Hermione wondered what happened out there. Was Nicholas alright?

And Tom … where was he? Was he looking for her at all? The question made her wary. Though from what Slytherin had said, perhaps she could be more confident with Tom's emotions towards her, regardless of how absurd it sounded even to her. Instead of feeling overjoyed, however, she felt even glummer. She wanted to see him before she left. Once she was back to the future … she would never get to see him again.

"But it's nearly night, and Slytherin's nowhere in sight," Draco groaned, letting his head fall on the bars behind him.

"Perhaps all his spells work only at night," Ginny said with a shrug. "Who knows?"

As if on cue, the door swung open. The smile on Slytherin's face was unnerving, to say the least. The combination of viciousness and happiness on that monkey-like face caused simultaneous shivers to run down the time travelers' spines.

"So … ready to go back home?" Slytherin asked.

In Hermione's opinion, he sounded a bit too happy, to the point that she was sure that every other conscious being in the room was wondering if he had managed to find a way to send them all to hell within the last two days.

"Well, then, ready or not, one way ticket back to 1998, where all four of you belong," he said. His eyes landed on Hermione. "Especially  ** _you_** , little Mudblood."

"The biased ape really has something against you," Ginny muttered beside her.

With a wave of his wand, the door to the cage opened, but before they could get up from their spots, Slytherin waved his wand again. Their appendages snapped to their sides, and they all toppled over. With another swish, their bodies floated out the cage and followed after Slytherin as he walked out of the house.

Hermione was sure that even normal witches and wizards would have found the sight alarming, four bodies floating merely steps behind Slytherin as he traveled through the forest. The skies were clear tonight again, and the quarter moon shone brightly upon them. A dark figure flew over the skies above them, and absurdly, Hermione was reminded of the night when they flew over to the Ministry of Magic during fifth year.

They were returning home, or more appropriately, "home." She had no idea what to expect, with all the things they had done in the past. What kind of a "home" were they returning to?

Was … Lord Voldemort still alive?

The thought both worried and excited her. If he was still alive, would that mean that Harry and he would have to duel again? Did she really have to live with one of them dying? But if Lord Voldemort was alive, what would that mean for the future of the Wizarding World?

After around fifteen minutes, Slytherin stopped and released them from the spells. They were still in the forest, but a circle of jars surrounded them.

"What was that for?" Ginny asked angrily.

"I don't want to spend the extra energy trying to chase you towards where I want you to be," Slytherin replied offhandedly.

"We weren't going to running away as long as you are sending us back home," Hermione argued.

"Sure you weren't planning on seeing my heir one last time?" Slytherin asked, his voice sickeningly sweet as he looked at her.

Hermione's mouth snapped shut as she stared at Slytherin. He chuckled darkly as he waved his wand, casting a ward around them before turning around to the contents within the jars.

Harry, Ginny, and Draco remained quiet. The atmosphere around them became more and more awkward by the minute, and the silence accentuated it. Finally, Ginny broke the silence with a deep sigh and gave Hermione a comforting squeeze on the shoulder.

Hermione tried to smile, but she didn't need a mirror to know how ugly of a smile it was. Three months ago, she would have been ecstatic that they were finally returning home. However, if her relationship with Tom hadn't developed to the way it was now, Slytherin probably wouldn't have sent them home so readily either, even if he did want to know who else knew the time traveling spell.

As seconds slipped by, Hermione found herself glancing in every direction, half-wishing that the dark-haired young man would appear but to no avail.

Once he checked every jar, Slytherin stood up straight and threw four necklaces at their feet. After staring at it for a few minutes and nothing exploded on her, Hermione picked up the closest one, placed it in the palm of her hand, and studied the pendant hanging at the end of the necklace. It turned out to be a cylinder container of some sort, with bluish-purple liquid floating inside it.

"Once you're back in the future, turn the top of the pendant three times to the right. The liquid will turn white, and it will deactivate the spell that is used to send you back in time," Slytherin said. He then took out a pocket watch and looked at it. A smile appeared on his face. "It's time."

Hermione's heart rate quickened. She was hardly distracted by the fact that Slytherin threw a bag at her feet before pointing his wand at one of the jars and starting to chant in some foreign language.

She kept looking around while Harry opened the bag. It turned out to be his invisibility cloak and their wands.

"Here," he muttered, handing her back her wand.

However, she wasn't concentrating on what Harry was saying or doing.

_Tom … Tom …_

She screamed his name in her mind as the jar broke with a flick of Slytherin's wand. The liquid seeped into snow and, instead of staying in one spot, flowed underneath them. Gradually, Slytherin's chanting picked up in speed, as did the sound of jars breaking.

And finally, the last jar was shattered, and the liquids beneath the four time travelers started to turn multiple colors. Suddenly, gravity seemed to increase tenfold, and it was at that moment when she saw  ** _him_**.

His footsteps came to a stop when he took in the scene before him. She tried to reach out to him, but her limbs no longer listened to her commands. The look of fury that appeared on his face imprinted itself in her mind, and his wand whipped out the next second, pointing towards the monkey-like man who was standing with his back towards Tom Marvolo Riddle.

The last word of the chant came out of Salazar Slytherin's mouth and was quickly changed into a bloodcurdling scream, just as a blinding white light shot through the air.

~-0-~

Unprecedented wrath flooded through Tom as he twisted the wand another angle, increasing the strength with which he was Cruciating Slytherin with. A vicious smile appeared on his face, and with a couple of quick, successive spells, he immobilized Slytherin and confiscated his wand.

"You … you …" Slytherin panted.

Tom knelt down beside him and tilted his head to one side.

"Did you think you can manipulate the whole situation without me knowing?" he asked softly as he ran a single finger down his yew wand. A mocking smile appeared on his face. "Did you think … that because you are my  ** _ancestor_**  that I would allow you to control my life?"

"She wanted to return home," Slytherin replied.

"I know she did. And you helped her with it," said Tom, the smile disappearing on his face and replaced by murderous hatred. "She is  ** _my_**  Mudblood. You dare to steal from me."

Slytherin laughed. "And you call yourself my heir? Frolicking with Mudbloods and blood traitors … If I hadn't known, I would've thought that you were Godric's heir instead." He narrowed his eyes at Tom. "I've made the right choice, it seemed. If I hadn't sent her back, who knows what kind of descendants I would have in another ten years? As if your Muggle father wasn't bad enough—"

Tom stood up from his position and pointed his wand at Slytherin again. " _Crucio_."

Slytherin's screams ripped through the air. A few minutes later, his body was contorted into an impossible angle. Yet, Tom's fury was hardly alleviated. He kept the Cruciatus Curse on Slytherin until the latter could no longer scream, lying face flat on the ground.

Tom gave him a kick on the side, forcing Slytherin to turn on his back, before pressing his shoe into Slytherin’s chest.

"Do you know what's your problem, oh great and mighty ancestor of mine?" Tom asked, as if he were having a simple conversation with him. Putting his weight onto his foot, Tom savored the look of pain that appeared on Slytherin's face. "You think that you've had every step of the way calculated. You thought that you could send Hermione Granger back to the future and then inform me tomorrow. It never occurred to you that I would find you with your back conveniently turned towards me, did it?"

With a swift movement, Tom removed his foot from Slytherin's chest and kicked him in the face. Blood splattered onto the ground, and the glaring redness stood out obnoxiously against the pure whiteness of the snow.

"Well, unfortunately for you, it seems like time's up for you, Salazar Slytherin," Tom said quietly as he lazily flicked his wand over Slytherin's body.

Suddenly, Slytherin's skin started to move, as if it were being boiled, and turned an angry shade of pink. An expression of agony appeared on Slytherin's face, but no sounds came out of his mouth as he silently screamed.

"Had you ever imagined how you would die?" Tom asked casually. "Did you ever think about the possibility of being killed by your own heir?" He chuckled as a dark glint passed through his eyes and he circled around Slytherin's thrashing body. "Oh, my apologies. You thought that you would  ** _never_** die." He stopped and tapped his wand on his side. "Well, Lord Voldemort is about to prove you wrong, Salazar Slytherin. You do not have to worry. You will have the honor of being known as the ancestor of Lord Voldemort when I become the most feared wizard alive. After all, your name is quite useful when it comes down to rallying followers."

With another swish of his wand, random spots on Slytherin's body bubbled before bursting open, adding more blood to the red portrait in the snow.

"You've taken something from Lord Voldemort. You should've known that Lord Voldemort doesn't forgive or forget easily. Make no mistake, I will get back what is mine." His lips curved upwards into a cold smile. "With interest, of course—I'm not going to allow you to live past tonight, dear ancestor."

In addition to pain, a new emotion entered Slytherin's eyes. His fearful eyes widened when he realized he could no longer stall his death.

Pointing his wand at Slytherin, Tom's smirk turned into a hospitable smile.

"Good-bye, Salazar Slytherin," he said. " _Avada Kedavra_."

The flash of green escaped the tip of the yew wand and hit Slytherin straight in the chest. Within a blink of an eye, the skies darkened as clouds moved in and covered the moon from view. Ghastly green flames of light dotted the forest, and a strong gust of wind accompanied the arrival of a dark figure mere meters away from the dead corpse of Salazar Slytherin.

Shrouded completely in black, Death's tall and thin figure could easily be mistaken as a wisp of smoke. The only exceptions were the deathly pale face beneath the hood and the paper-white hand holding onto a scythe.

"Finally," Death hissed as he glided up to Slytherin.

With a snap of his fingers, a dark mist rose from Slytherin and entered Death's opened hand. When the last bit disappeared, Death turned towards Tom, who stood there with his arms crossed over his chest.

After all, he had his Horcruxes. It was not as if Death could take him.

Therefore, Tom was both surprised and bothered when he heard his next words.

"Another fool with Horcruxes, I see," Death said, his lips widening into a smile. "Do you really think that that would stop me, Tom Marvolo Riddle?"

Tom did not answer, though his eyes merely narrowed at the figure standing before him.

A cold laugh left Death as he slid around Slytherin's body. When he was right next to Tom, he stopped.

"I'll see you again, Tom," he rasped before disappearing into thin air.

As the clouds cleared up, Tom stared at where Death had been standing before his dark eyes landed on Slytherin's body. It appeared that he would have to find other ways to insure his immortality. No, if Slytherin could die after escaping Death for so long, then one way was surely not enough.

And the silly old snake was so sure he had found a foolproof way to living forever. Constantly traveling through time was a bother anyway, and one had to remember which time periods and places they had stayed in before to avoid paradoxes.

Lord Voldemort would find the ultimate way to living forever  ** _and_**  rub it into Death's face.

Oh yes, Death and he would meet again, but only so that Death could collect the souls from people Lord Voldemort would need to kill.

Such as one particular meddlesome old coot.

Now that Slytherin was dead, Dumbledore would wake up soon. Tom would have to hurry.

Right before he reached the front door of Slytherin's hut, it slammed open. Upon seeing this, Tom slipped into the shadows of the nearest trees. Much to his annoyance, Dumbledore had awoken. Though the old fool seemed a bit unsteady from being placed under a spell for a prolonged period of time, it was risky trying to hex him right now.

A risk Tom did not want to take.

No matter. It was only a matter of time before he killed the old coot. Once he got the Elder Wand.

Tom stayed in the shadows until Dumbledore Apparated away. Before entering the hut, Tom cast a couple of spells to ward against other people Apparating in, just in case Dumbledore decided to return. Once he was inside, Tom combed through the room, searching for anything of use. Thankfully, Dumbledore hadn't thought about snitching anything.

 _The high and honorable Transfiguration professor_ , Tom sneered.

A pleased glint flashed through Tom's eyes when he found several volumes of books hidden in various locations. He skimmed through the books and found quite a bit of useful things written in them.

He probably would have been more delighted with Slytherin if the silly old man hadn't tried to outwit him.  ** _Him_**. Lord Voldemort, the one who would become the greatest sorcerer in the world.

Well, that was …  ** _fatally_**  miscalculated by the old ape.  ** _Nobody_**  took things away from him.

Ever.

No, Hermione Granger belonged to him, and it was only a matter of time before he got her back.

Only a matter of time.

~-0-~

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **A/N** : _Thanks to firesspawn, for alerting me that I've forgotten to add an explanation for the following!_
> 
> **Why Slytherin said if Hermione and Tom had sons, they would all Mudbloods:**
> 
> As the so-called "ancestor" of the pure-blood bigotry, I figured that Slytherin would be even stricter than his future believers when it comes down to determining what is a Mudblood. In this story, I've established that Slytherin's a researcher, so he also has ... er ... had knowledge in Biology, too, completely disregarding the fact that it's Muggle stuff of course. We know from canon that even though Lily is a witch, Harry is considered a half-blood because she's a Muggle-born. Since Riddle Sr. gave the Y chromosome to Tom (thus, making him a half-blood), if Hermione does give birth to sons with Tom, they would be considered "Mudbloods" in Slytherins POV.
> 
> Many thanks to Marauder's Wolf and Nerys for beta-ing the chapter!


	47. Chapter 47

**Chapter 47**

"Oomph," Hermione grunted when she fell down.

Strangely enough, the land was softer than she remembered. And it groaned, something she was sure normal grounds do not do.

"Who did we fall on this time?" Hermione asked, not bothering to open her eyes.

From her previous experience, she had expected all four of them to fall into a pile again.

"Only ferrets, Hermione," Ginny answered somewhere to her right.

Hermione cracked open an eye and found Harry lying on the ground a few feet away, and true to Ginny's words, Draco was right beneath her.

"Oops," Hermione sighed.

"Mind rolling off me, Granger?" Draco muttered.

"Just a second," Hermione replied and winced when she tried to move. "I can't move yet."

"Someone should make it illegal for Slytherin to make up traveling spells. All of them make people feel as if they've just been run over by a horde of manticores," Draco said.

"We wouldn't have made it back home without his spells," said Ginny.

"And we probably wouldn't have gone back to the past in the first place," Draco pointed out.

"Good point," Ginny murmured.

They remained on the ground for a few minutes before Hermione managed to flip herself off Draco.

"Are we actually back in the future?" Draco asked, not bothering to flip on his back.

"Don't know," Harry replied, staring at their surroundings.

Wherever  ** _and_**  whenever they were, Hermione could be certain that it was not where they had traveled from. The temperature was much higher, and it was no longer nighttime. The grass they were lying on was a vivid shade of green, dotted with the white and yellow shades of unknown flowers. The branches of the trees surrounding them were heavy with leaves and swayed when an occasional breeze swept its fingers over them. The chorus of cicadas and birds added a sense of lethargy to the atmosphere, nearly making the four of them fall asleep on the spot, while they watched the white, fluffy clouds crawl over the cerulean sky.

They were still in a forest, but it looked distinctly different from the one they had traveled from. Nonetheless, Hermione could not be sure what country they were in, and her skin crawled at the thought of traveling again.

"I don't care if we're in Mongolia, I refuse to travel by magic for the next three months," Ginny said before Hermione could open her mouth to say nearly the same thing.

"Like we have a choice," Draco snorted with some difficulty. "If we're still in the forties, we'd probably have to go through this again."

"Stop jinxing us, Malloy," Harry murmured with his eyes shut and his eyebrows furrowed.

Too tired to continue the argument, Draco closed his eyes, too, allowing the afternoon sunlight to wash over him. It took them almost thirty minutes, but in the end, the soreness they felt finally faded enough so that they could sit up in their spots.

They immediately pulled off their cloaks. The thick layers of knitted material were much too warm for their current settings, and Hermione's shirt was already sticking to the sweat forming on her back.

"Where should we go now?" Ginny asked, looking at Hermione for suggestions.

Hermione furrowed her eyebrows. "I suppose we should find out where we are first before we can decide. If we're back in our time, we'd have to see our parents first—"

A gasp from Harry interrupted her words, and the three of them turned towards him.

"What's wrong?" Ginny looked at him with worry.

"I … no …" Harry frowned, too, and he opened and closed his mouth a couple of times, as if he wanted to say something but had no idea how to voice it.

Hermione clapped her hand over her mouth when realization hit her.

"Harry …" she began, and he stared at her.

Amusement, confusion, and disbelief flashed through Harry's eyes as their memories rearranged themselves. The experience was frightening as it was incredible, and Harry and Hermione could only sit there and wait for the sensations to end.

"Merlin's pants, we're in for a ride," Draco muttered on the side, breaking the silence, as his face turned pale.

"Oh dear …" Ginny whispered as her eyes widened.

Hermione did not have to ask. She was positive that the two of them were going through the same exact thing that she and Harry were.

~-0-~

"Can someone please tell me why my brain feels as if someone randomly shoved memories in them?" Draco asked as they climbed over a fallen tree. "You would've thought that after we came back home, everything would be back to normal. But nooo, my life must be more complicated than feeding a Blast-Ended Skrewt!" When no one answered him, he frowned. "Well? Weaselette? Any 'smart' remarks about the situation?"

"It would be much appreciated if you'd just remain quiet for a while, Malloy," said Harry instead.

A noise of annoyance escaped Draco's mouth. "Evans, our memories are being rearranged. Surely that's not normal for time traveling or else that would have happened to us when we went back in time, and you're asking  ** _me_**  to be quiet?" He looked at Hermione. "Any theories at all, Granger?"

"I'm not sure," Hermione replied after a short pause. "But I'm guessing that we've changed quite a bit of the past, which is why our memories need to be updated, so to speak."

"But why do we still have memories from our other past then?" Draco asked. "Shouldn't we forget them like the rest of the people in this alternate universe?"

"Perhaps it has to do with the fact that we're the one causing the changes," Hermione suggested. "Sort of like a stone being dropped into a pool of water. The ripples affect everything around it—"

"But the stone still gets wet and becomes part of the pool," Draco cut in.

"Precisely," Hermione answered. "Throwing it in water might get it wet, which is like adding new memories to us, but the water itself does not change the properties of the stone. The stone is still a stone, and what is inside it would not change because it is in water."

Silence draped over them as they took a moment to digest this theory. It was all they had, after all, and as far as they were concerned, they had no one to ask anyway.

Memories continued to seep into their minds as they made their way out of the forest. Some of them made their lips twitch out of amusement, while others caused them to furrow their eyebrows. Nonetheless, it was all bits and pieces, and they had yet to find ways to make a complete portrait out of the scraps.

"Oh, for Salazar's  ** _sake_**! I did not need to see that!" Draco suddenly yelled, alarming all of them, just as they reached the clearing.

It turned out that they had fallen into the Forbidden Forest, and right ahead of them was the familiar castle that had housed them during their school years—Hogwarts. The scene would have been welcoming if they had not been startled by Draco.

Hermione, Harry, and Ginny halted in their footsteps and stared at him. He was ogling at Hermione with a look of confusion and disgust. Then, he started shaking his head and slapping his palm against his forehead.

"Get it out, get it out. Someone Obliviate me  ** _now_** ," Draco said.

"Why?" Ginny asked.

"It doesn't matter. Just Obliviate me.  ** _Now_** ," Draco groaned.

"Well, if you don't mind the negative side-effects …" Harry said with a nod, taking out his wand.

"Don't be silly, Harry," Hermione chided, placing a hand on his wand. She turned towards Draco. "What happened?"

"I knew you fancied the old fraud, but you don't need to … Argh! Get that image out, get that image away from me!"

"What?" Hermione asked, thoroughly confused now.

It was apparent to her now that they were "receiving" new memories at a different speed, and what they "remembered" was random, though she had no idea why—an interesting question which she must investigate at later times. However, right now, she had no idea what Draco saw that made him so shaken.

He couldn't be talking about Trelawney, could he? Then again, she never fancied  ** _that_**  old fraud. Then, it must be …

"Who and what are you talking about?" Ginny asked, wrinkling her forehead.

"She was snogging  ** _Lockhart_**  in a classroom," Draco groaned, covering his face with his hands.

Harry and Ginny stared at him before turning their attentions towards Hermione, who was gaping at Draco.

 _What in the world_ —

"Wait—Hermione's like … what? Thirteen at that time? Lockhart wouldn't … well … I know he's strange and everything, but he's not … he wouldn't fancy someone so young, would he?" Harry asked, looking at Hermione with uncertainty.

"I don't know! It … the image just appeared in my mind. Do you think I want to think about something like that?" Draco moaned. "I need a Cleansing Charm on my brain now."

This was impossible. Well, alright, so she fancied Lockhart all the way back in second year, but she wouldn't snog him in secret, would she?

Harry and Ginny eyed Hermione carefully.

"I didn't snog him in our timeline," Hermione announced loudly, recognizing that look in Harry's eyes.

"I didn't say you did," Harry replied defensively, his cheeks turning a suspicious shade of red.

 _But you were thinking about it_ , Hermione thought without saying it out loud.

"But then again … she doesn't look thirteen in that memory," Draco mumbled.

Harry and Ginny stared at him.

"She looks more like … well … this age," Draco answered, waving his hand up and down at Hermione.

"That can't be. Lockhart couldn't have possibly stayed after our second year. There's a curse on the Defense Against the Dark Arts position," Harry commented. "Besides, he lost his memories at the end of the year, unless we've done enough things in the past to change that, too."

A troubled expression appeared on Harry's face, as if he were contemplating on returning to the past make sure Lockhart lost his memories again.

"Ugh. If that's true, does it mean I have to go through seven years of Lockhart?" Ginny asked in disgust.

"Maybe Riddle didn't think about putting a curse on it this time around?" Draco suggested.

"And how would that make me feel any better?" Ginny rolled her eyes, the distaste becoming more and more prominent on her face.

"Riddle wanted that position because he'd wanted to search for potential Death Eaters, and I doubt Dumbledore would allow him to do that," Harry answered. "So most likely, the curse would still be on that position."

The three of them turned their eyes towards Hermione.

"I don't know," she replied, shaking her head and her eyes wide in panic.

Her memories were not updating fast enough, and she didn't get all the "newest" information yet. However, if Draco was certain that the Hermione from his "memory" was around her age, then she could say with confidence that her feelings for Lockhart had dwindled to nothing more than a soft spot for a childhood idol.

And Tom … she wasn't getting any memories about him. Was he still alive? Or was he …

She could not bring herself to think about it without feeling a sharp pain in her chest. What if he were dead in this timeline, too, which was why she wasn't getting any images of him? Even if he were alive, could she even hope for their relationship to be the same as it had been? And if he were alive, would that mean that she would have to choose between him and Harry?

The questions swimming through her head on top of the random memories popping in her mind made her scowl.

"Don't think too much about it," Ginny comforted her, misunderstanding the look on Hermione's face and placing a hand on her arm. "Perhaps it was just some kind of strange dream that he had. We wouldn't know until one of you gets all your memories."

Hesitantly, Hermione nodded, but as they continued to walk towards their former school again, she decided to push those depressing thoughts away for the time being. It was too early to form a conclusion right now anyway.

Nonetheless, the image Draco had placed in her head was enough to make uncomfortable feelings well up in the pit of her stomach. The walk towards Hogwarts was downright awkward with Harry and Ginny avoiding her eyes, and even more so with Draco mumbling something along the lines of "My eyes, my brain … burned forever …" and "Someone get it out before I get a permanent spot at St. Mungo's."

After walking through the front door, they were confronted with another problem: They had no idea who to look for. If they were indeed in the year 1998, then they could look for Professor McGonagall, but they had no idea if she lived in the castle during the summer.

"Are you sure we're in 1998? With these … messed up memories, I have no way of telling what year we're in," Draco pointed out.

"There's no way of telling," Hermione answered. "Perhaps … we could look around. If we can find a ghost, they could tell us what year we're in."

"Better not stumble across Peeves then," Draco muttered as they continued walking through the hallways.

Then, a thought crossed through Hermione's mind: What if Tom were still alive and Hogwarts was under his control? It was too reckless walking in here without finding out first.

"Harry—"

"May I help you?" a familiar voice sounded above them, cutting Hermione's words off.

They turned their heads towards the source and relief washed over Hermione.

"Oh," was all Professor McGonagall said when she realized who they were.

"Professor McGonagall, I … Oh …" For once, Hermione could not find the right words to say. How could she ask her questions without sounding like she had been hit over the head with a hammer?

"Do you have  ** _any_**  idea how worried we have been about the four of you?" Professor McGonagall demanded before they could continue speaking. "It was terribly irresponsible of you. We thought you were captured by rogue individuals, and you—" She looked at Harry sternly, "—your parents nearly went mad searching for you."

"Oh … er … I'm sorry, Professor," Harry replied, scratching the back of his head.

It wasn't exactly his fault that he didn't know his parents were alive until around half an hour ago. Yet, her reminder of his parents brought an excited glow into Harry's eyes again. The moment he caught Hermione's gaze, a goofy grin appeared on his face.

"Come along then. I will have to contact your parents and tell … well …" Her eyes fell on Draco, and for a short moment, her gaze turned contemplative.

Without continuing what she was about to say, she turned around and headed towards her office.

And still, they did not have answers. Hermione nibbled on her lower lip, trying to think on the brighter side, to believe that they would get answers soon enough.

Hopefully, before they did or said something stupid.

The next hour went by like a blur. The four of them didn't have a chance to whisper to one another, let alone voice out questions that were bombarding their minds, as the Potters and the Weasleys landed in Head's office.

Perhaps McGonagall was still the Headmistress in this timeline then? However, the office did not look like the way Hermione remembered.

Nonetheless, some of their questions were still indirectly answered as the Potters reprimanded Harry and the Weasleys fussed over Ginny.

"Harry James Potter, you'd better have a good explanation about why you've gone missing for nearly two years," James Potter said the moment he and his wife stepped out of the fireplace.

Harry's silence was perceived by Lily and James as guilt, but Hermione knew otherwise. The shine in the young man's eyes told her precisely how overjoyed he was about seeing his parents alive and well.

Hermione, on the other hand, was more alarmed by the fact that they were gone for two years in this new future. If that was the case, then they would be in the year 2000 and not the year 1998.

"You are grounded until further notice, young man, and if you—" Lily's words were cut off when Harry launched himself into her arms.

"You could have  ** _died_**. We wouldn't have known if something happened to you!" Arthur was saying on the side to Ginny.

"Oh, Arthur. She's shaken already. And look at how skinny she is! Did you eat proper meals at all, Ginny?" Molly asked.

Hermione tuned out the rest of the conversation, and her eyes landed on Draco, who was looking at the fireplace with a frown. When he caught sight of her glancing at him, he recomposed his expression.

"They're … probably busy," he muttered.

A frown appeared on Hermione's face, too, since she recalled how worried Lucius and Narcissa were about their only son. Why hadn't they been contacted? And if they had, why hadn't they appeared yet?

"Harry—you're choking me—" Lily choked out as Harry clung on to her.

"Are you sure they don't need to get an examination from Madam Pomfrey, Minerva? The four of them—oh …" Molly's words came to a halt as she stared at Draco.

Hermione's gaze traveled between the parents of her friends and Draco. There seemed to be something … off about the atmosphere after Molly noticed him. She had always known that Mrs. Weasley was not exactly fond of the Malfoys, but she was surprised to see looks of contempt appear on James Potter's faces, too. Even Lily, whose face was half-covered by Harry's body, was looking at Draco introspectively.

"We're just a bit shaken from the traveling. There's nothing wrong with us," Hermione explained, trying to take the attention away from Draco.

Though she could not pinpoint the problem, she could almost sense trouble brewing.

"What are you doing with Draco Malfoy, Harry?" Lily asked, her green eyes narrowed slightly.

James did not say anything, but he continued observing Draco on the side. Hermione sincerely hoped that the hand he had in his pocket was not curled around his wand.

As if shocked, Harry released his mother and took a step back.

"Oh … he … was traveling with us," he said slowly, glancing between Draco and Lily.

His eyes landed on Hermione, questioning her with his eyes. However, she had no idea what happened.

"Traveling with you," James repeated. He huffed. "We've taught you better than that, Harry. You should know better than to  ** _travel_**  with someone like him."

"James, what if someone saw them together?" Lily asked frantically, placing a hand on Harry's shoulder.

"We'd have to do something about it," James said.

Without warning, he moved, but Hermione was one second before him. With her wand out, she stood in front of Draco protectively.

"James, no!" McGonagall cried, rushing forward to stop him.

"What are you doing, Hermione?" James asked instead, a frown marring his features. Then, a look of disbelief appeared. "You're protecting him? You're protecting a  ** _Malfoy_**?"

"He's different from his parents … Mr. Potter," Hermione said carefully. "We've been traveling with him for the past … two years, and I can assure you that he's nothing like Lucius and Narcissa Malfoy."

"We should wait for instructions before acting on our own, James. You know  ** _he_**  doesn't allow it, especially pertaining to the younger generations," McGonagall said sternly.

"I doubt Draco Malfoy is included in that group, Minerva. He's the perfect bait to lure out the Malfoys," James objected.

Harry, Ginny, and Hermione all looked at Draco, whose face was paler than usual, and as she looked at him, Hermione wondered who the "he" they were talking about was. For a fleeting moment, Voldemort's face flashed through her mind's eye, but she quickly shook that thought away. With him and his biased "pure-blood are superior" ways, she doubted the people standing in front of her would follow him and do his bidding.

"We should have captured the Malfoys seven years ago.  ** _He_**  wouldn't want to wait another seven years. It's a perfect chance, Minerva." With that said, James turned towards Hermione and Draco. "Move aside, Hermione."

"James," Lily said, moving forward and grabbing his arm which was now extended towards Draco, "Minerva's right. We should alert him. This is something he would want to know about."

Hermione's stomach flip-flopped. Their words triggered a faraway memory that did not belong to this new future they had arrived in—the night Harry, Ron, and she were trapped in Malfoy Manor.

"James—" McGonagall began to say, but she was interrupted by Molly.

"I'll alert him," Molly said, her hand moving over to her left arm.

All at once, the four time travelers inhaled sharply before they glanced at one another in confusion and anxiety. This could not be happening to them. It was definitely not what they were thinking. It was … impossible.

"It's not a problem, Molly. I got this," Lily replied.

"Wait," Molly called out, her forehead crinkling into a frown. "Well, you're always the one who alerts him. Since … we're going to be family soon …" She cast a look at Ginny and Harry meaningfully, causing the two of them to blush.

A frown appeared in Lily's face, too.

"That doesn't have anything to do with this," Lily pointed out.

"Of course it does," Molly answered, her face turning slightly red. "Maybe … well … you should let others get a chance at things every once in a while."

When Lily did not say anything, Molly moved a bit closer to her and continued speaking in a lower voice. Hermione had to strain her ears to hear what they were saying.

"You know that he's still displeased with our family because of what Percy did seven years ago. And Percy's still not getting a promotion at the Ministry," Molly whispered.

"The Dark Lord—"

The feelings of jubilation and fear welled up in Hermione at the same time.

Tom was still alive. He really, really was still alive. But ... why were they—the Potters, the Weasleys, and Professor McGonagall—on his side? Surely they did not support his biased ways, especially when Lily Potter was a Muggle-born witch herself.

Her thoughts were thrown into confusion, and she very nearly missed the next words Lily said.

"—had already given your family a pardon. He'd already said that the punishment for what Percy had done would not be extended to the immediate family members," Lily said in an equally low tone of voice.

"I know," Molly hissed frantically, "and I'm most grateful for that, but our family—Charlie and Ron—are also getting the blunt end of the stick. Thankfully, the goblins do not hesitate in using Bill because he's good at what he does, but still …" She inhaled. "The rest of the Wizarding World somehow found out that the Dark Lord hadn't even stayed for dinner for the past two years—"

Hermione nearly snorted upon hearing that. Imagining the Dark Lord in the Burrow was as funny as it was absurd. However, Molly mentioned "for the past two years," so apparently, he had been there before.

Surprisingly, without any death counts, judging from Molly's attitude towards it.

She was getting more confused by the second, and a part of her wanted to scream out of frustration. What had occurred in this new timeline that caused strong supporters of Dumbledore to go over to the Dark side?

She looked towards the others, and all three of them looked sick.

"What the hell happened?" Harry muttered, his face greener than both Ginny and Draco's.

"He did not stay at the Burrow for dinner. He did not sit with us at our table during Christmas," Ginny was chanting in a low voice to herself.

"Can we go back to forties, Hermione? Please?" Draco whimpered on the side. Suddenly, he drew in a sharp intake of breath. "Oh no."

"What's wrong?" Harry and Hermione asked together as Ginny stopped in her mantra.

"Oh no … no, no, no … get it out, get it out," Draco moaned, clutching to his head again.

"What memories did you get back this time?" Hermione asked, recognizing the symptoms.

"It doesn't matter. This is worse than seeing you snog Lockhart—"

"She did what?" McGonagall asked sharply, turning her head stiffly towards the group of four.

"I did  ** _not_**  snog Lockhart!" Hermione declared.

"Who-whoever you snogged then! Just get this stupid memory out," Draco groaned.

"It can't be that bad, can it?" Ginny asked.

"Easy for you to say, Weaselette. Your parents were—"

He caught himself just in time as his eyes landed on Molly and Arthur, who were still talking with Lily about their family problems. McGonagall had her eyes narrowed at him, and they were well aware that she was hanging on to each word they said, determined to find out if Hermione had been snogging a professor in between classes.

Harry, Hermione, and Ginny released a deep breath when she finally looked away towards James to protest his suggestion to keep Draco in the dungeons at the Potter residence.

A strangled noise escaped Draco's throat. "Evans, you have to help me. You're not going to let your parents put me in the dungeons, are you?"

It seemed like a difficult question for Harry to answer, since he remained quiet and scratched the back of his neck. "Er …"

"Of course we won't let them put you in the dungeons," Hermione spoke up, shooting Harry a glare.

Draco let out a relieved breath.

"So you were saying?" Ginny prompted.

He stared at her confused for a second before he recalled what they had been talking about, and then his face scrunched up into a tortured expression again. "Of course it's easy for you to say that—that—that  ** _memory_**  isn't too bad. Your parents were in the Order of the Pigeons in where—when we are supposed to be."

" ** _Your_** parents are in the Order of the Phoenix?" Harry asked, his face turning greener still.

"Yes! Can you believe this?" Draco asked, looking as if he had just eaten something particularly bitter.

"What have we done?" Harry turned towards Hermione in panic. "My parents … they can't be Death Eaters, can they?"

"Er—"

"And my parents, too," Ginny added quickly.

"Well—"

"Father hated Dumbledore. Why in the world would he join the pigeons?" Draco asked.

"I don't know," Hermione answered truthfully.

But that was apparently the wrong thing to say, since the next moment, all three of them started to talk simultaneously. Hermione had no idea whom to listen to and how to find the answers to the questions. She was positive that nothing in the library would help her.

Though shards of memories were slipping into her mind, eighteen years was not a very short period.

As if on cue, the room suddenly fell silent. The Potters, the Weasleys, and McGonagall dropped to their knees; and a cold voice resonated throughout the room.

"I left the country for  ** _only_**  two days and return to find nothing but disorganization and nonstop babbling amongst my followers? How utterly disappointing."

The four time travelers swirled around. Upon realizing who had spoken, Draco immediately hid behind Hermione again while Harry stood protectively in front of Ginny.

And it took all of Hermione's self-control to not run over to the man leaning against the doorframe. There was no question who he was, though he no longer looked like the way he did back in the forties. The straight, prominent nose had been replaced by slits for nostrils, and those full lips she had been so accustomed to kissing were no longer present. However, what surprised Hermione the most was not how he looked, but the fact that her emotions towards him did not seem to waver because of his current snake-like look. Of course, the loss of his good looks made her want to sigh out of regret, but still ...

There must be something very wrong with her. Something very wrong indeed if she still felt attracted to him. She  ** _shouldn't_**  be. There were too many reasons to stop the silly feelings she had for him. Not to mention the fact that there was now a huge age gap between them. Of course, wizards and witches did not view age the same way Muggles did, but fifty years was not a short period of time.

Lord Voldemort's red eyes landed on them, and for a split second, he appeared confused and shocked. However, it was quickly covered by a mask of cold indifference.

"What are the two of you doing here?" He turned towards Molly and Arthur as if he hadn't seen the four time travelers.

The Weasleys jolted on the spot but did not dare to look at him.

"I recall telling the two of you to keep a look on the old Lestrange residence," Voldemort said, gliding forward and stopping right in front of them.

"My Lord, we've been there for a few nights in a row, but there were no signs of the mansion—"

"Fools," Voldemort hissed. "The place is protected by a Fidelius Charm. Of course you're not going to see the house itself."

"Ye-yes, my Lord. We—"

"You were supposed to stay there and monitor if there were any Order members appearing in that area. Do you need to have your task spelled out even more than that?" Voldemort asked mockingly.

"No, my Lord."

"Then get to it," Voldemort snapped.

Not needing to be told twice, Arthur and Molly got up and headed towards the door, thankful that they did not get Cruciated for failing the Dark Lord. When Molly reached Ginny, however, she stopped.

"Ginny—"

"What are you doing?" Voldemort's head turned towards the Weasleys.

"My Lord, I—"

"Did I tell you to speak to your daughter?" he asked quietly.

"I—I'm sorry, My Lord. I—I'm wondering—if I can—"

"No, you may not," Voldemort snapped before Molly could finish her sentence. "You'll have plenty of time to speak with your daughter after we've taken down the Order. Now  ** _get to it_**."

After the Weasleys ran out of the room, he turned towards the Potters. For a second, Hermione was worried that he might be even nastier to them than towards the Weasleys. For all she knew, he was never quite fond of the Potters in the past or in the future she had known.

"Lily."

"My Lord, the lilac petals had been added this morning, and the potion itself should be ready within three days," Lily answered.

"Excellent," Voldemort said, his lipless mouth curving into a faint smile.

Their short interactions, however, made Hermione narrow her eyes. It was almost as if there was … some kind of mutual understanding between them, and a move or gesture or word was all it took for one to understand the other.

Next to Hermione, Harry's face had turned to a strange puce color, and he looked as if he had been hit by another rogue Bludger. Draco, on the other hand, had a very strange expression on his face, an expression that Hermione could not describe, while Ginny appeared plain horrified.

"Lupin's encountering some problems with the younger werewolves, James. You will need to be there for the next full moon," Voldemort instructed.

"Yes, my Lord," James answered.

When they were dismissed, Lily remained kneeling. "My Lord, may I take Harry with me?"

"I have some other errands for young Harry, Lily, and must keep him here for a few days," Voldemort replied.

"Oh," Lily replied, her eyes wide with curiosity as she glanced at Harry. "I see. Thank you, my Lord, for giving my family such an honor."

Harry nearly fell over, and he noticeably swayed on the spot.

Hermione's eyes became mere slits. It was obvious to her that there were differences— ** _significant_**  differences—between Molly and Lily's relationships with Lord Voldemort, and Hermione was not amused by it.

Her displeasure barely waned after the Potters left the room. She kept her eyes on Voldemort while he gave McGonagall a mission, though her mind did not register what he was saying.

What was the relationship between Voldemort and Lily? He seemed to be a lot more tolerant towards her. That was strange, considering the fact that Molly Weasley was a pure-blood, whom he **_should_**  be favoring, and Lily Potter was a Muggle-born, whom he  ** _should_**  despise.

Or was that precisely why he liked her more? Because she was a Muggle-born?

But she was Harry's mother and James's wife! She wouldn't do something like that, would she? Then again, Hermione didn't know too much about Lily Potter. What if she was something like the Bellatrix Lestrange of this timeline? Her eyes landed on Draco, and she made a note in her mind to ask him what, exactly, was the relationship between his crazy aunt and Lord Voldemort.

Hermione then shook her head. Perhaps she was overthinking things. But the way Lily and Voldemort interacted made her uncomfortable, and she knew she could not rest well again before she got to the bottom of things.

After McGonagall left the room, Voldemort turned towards the four time travelers.

"Well, this is certainly unexpected," he said, his lipless mouth curving into a mocking smile. "Then again, time traveling has never been precise."

He crossed the room and swirled into the chair behind the Head's desk.

"What year are we in?" Harry asked hesitantly.

Voldemort cast a look at him. "The year 2000. The four of you were gone since December of the year 1998, and while the lot of you were in the forties, your parents—" He pointed at Harry and Ginny consecutively. "—nearly tore the country apart looking for you, especially Lily and James." His expression turned contemplative. "This is apparently not the future you were expecting to return to, judging from your reactions and words towards me when you first landed in the past."

The four of them did not answer and merely shared looks with one another. Was this really the future? What if it was just a trap created by Tom and Slytherin to get answers out of them? But even if Tom did know that they were from the future, how did he know the names of Harry and Ginny's parents? That was something that no one was supposed to know.

"If you've made changes in the past, things in the future will change. Though the future that you've known is unknown to me, I believe that  ** _this_**  is significantly different from that one," Voldemort continued as if he hadn't noticed their silence. "You should be experiencing different memories being inserted into your minds."

Momentarily, his eyes landed on Draco, and he looked distinctly amused.

"But didn't the Ministry speculate that altering things in the past would cause the future to shatter? And that we, as the time travelers, are supposed to disappear the moment we did something to change the future?" Hermione asked, unable to stop herself from holding back the questions any longer. When Voldemort looked at her, she quickly added, "That's what was written … um ..."

Voldemort placed his arm on the armrest and propped his chin on top of his hand, all the while keeping his eyes on her, a mocking smile at the corner of his lips.

Hermione flushed red, realizing that he was having fun at her expense and how utterly pointless it was trying to conceal things about a timeline that no longer existed.

"It was … written on the parchment Professor McGonagall handed to me … when she gave me the Time-Turner."

His eyes slid over her body once before they met with hers once more.

"That's because the Ministry doesn't know every single thing about time traveling."

The way he was eying her made Hermione turn even redder, and she was harshly reminded of the fact that she had been rolling in grass just around two hours ago. The winter cloak she was holding in her arms already had a bunch of grass and other debris clinging to it, so she could imagine how her hair and face looked like. Her shirt was also a victim of Slytherin's chaotic spell and was sticking uncomfortably to her back.

Abruptly, he looked away, and Hermione's heart dropped to the pit of her stomach. She had been so happy to see him alive that she hadn't even thought about things from his viewpoint.

Did he still remember her? It would probably be ridiculous, trying to attach the word "love" or "care" to Lord Voldemort. Nonetheless, did he still have the same feelings he had towards her? Would **_he_**  care about the age difference between them? And what had he done in the past fifty years? Even if things between them were still the same, could she really pretend the evil acts he might have done had never happened?

It made her upset thinking about these things, especially when she came to the realization just hours ago that maybe, just maybe, Tom cared about her. Despite being afraid of what the truth would be, she wanted to know if that still held true.

"It will take around three days for your memories to be completely updated. Until then, I trust the four of you will be careful enough to avoid saying things that might make others suspicious," Voldemort said.

"But our parents—what are we going to tell them?" Harry asked.

"Make up something," Voldemort answered simply. The corner of his mouth curved upwards in a wicked manner. "Do remember to corroborate your stories down to the smallest details. It would be less amusing for you than for me if people find out where you've truly been for the past two years."

The five of them fell silent again, looking at one another. After a while, Voldemort raised an eyebrow.

"Well? Do I need to help you make up a story, too?" He looked at Harry condescendingly. "Though considering how atrocious you are in creating stories and how abominable your acting skills are, I wouldn't be surprised."

The four time travelers shifted in their spots uncomfortably before Hermione shoved her discomfort away and spoke up.

"Um … we will need to know if their parents have been in other countries during these two years. If they've looked for us, they would know that we're lying. Immediately," she pointed out.

Voldemort heaved a sigh and rolled his eyes up to the ceiling. "Then make up a story first and we'll change the locations accordingly. Staring at me won't give you the solution." He paused, and a mysterious glint passed through his eyes. "For the time being, you are to stay in Hogwarts. That is your only option, unless you want your parents questioning you every single day about what happened."

"But we don't have a reason to stay here," Harry argued. Almost like an afterthought, he added, "And we don't want to stay here."

Voldemort looked at him mockingly. "Does it look like you have choice? And does it look like I need a reason to detain you from going home,  ** _Potter_**?" His face then became void of emotions. "One wrong move on your part and your parents will be the ones to pay."

"Why are they loyal to you?" Harry's hands were clenched into fists, and Hermione knew it took all his willpower not to attack his former nemesis.

Voldemort leaned forward, vicious glee written all over his face. "And why  ** _shouldn't_**  they be loyal to me?"

"Because—Because—"

Harry's mouth snapped shut, and he looked furious and uncomfortable with the situation they were finding themselves in. Hermione couldn't blame him. The memories that were appearing in their minds and the things they saw with their own eyes were very disturbing in her opinion.

"The students will not be returning to Hogwarts for another month, so you may roam the school freely," Voldemort instructed. "However, you are not to leave the school grounds without informing me ahead of time."

"That's like keeping us prisoner," Hermione argued.

After the words left her mouth, she almost wished she hadn't said it, for Voldemort's face contorted into one of malicious joy.

"Incorrect, dear. However, if you prefer for things to be that way, I can always make adjustments."

Hermione gaped at him, and the expression of Harry's face was beyond furious. A couple of times, he opened his mouth but only ended up closing it again. That seemed to delight Voldemort—Hermione had no doubt that it did—and he leaned back in the armchair and looked at Harry sideways.

"Don't even try to sidestep my directions, Potter, or else the consequences may be quite …  ** _undesirable_**." Voldemort's voice was light, but the underlying message was clear and threatening.

Without answering, the furious Harry turned around and headed towards the door with Ginny and Draco closely behind him. Hermione took one last look at Voldemort and followed suit.

"Granger," the soft, cold voice suddenly called out the moment Harry pulled open the door.

The four of them halted and simultaneously turned around to look at him.

"I said 'Granger.' I had no idea the rest of you share the same surname with her," Voldemort snapped, and for the first time since he had arrived, he appeared annoyed and impatient.

"She's our friend," Harry blurted out before he could stop himself, and Hermione could tell how much he was trying to control his own temper.

Upon seeing Harry's reaction, Voldemort raised a non-existent eyebrow, a smirk lurking at the corner of his mouth. "I remember." He leaned back in the armchair. "In contrast to you, Potter, I do happen to have—" His eyes flashed over to Hermione. "—an excellent memory."

Hermione's cheeks burned on the highly suggestive tone of voice he was using, and she avoided meeting eyes with her friends, afraid that they might come to the same realization as she did.

The door behind them opened, and before they could turn around to see who it was, the person had already come to a stop beside Ginny, who was standing to the farthest right.

After casting a quick look of surprise over the time travelers, Severus Snape recomposed his face and knelt down.

"My Lord."

Voldemort's blood-red eyes flickered over to him. "Any news?"

"Lucius was—" Snape started to say but then stopped and glanced at Draco.

"Ah, my mistake," Voldemort said and then tapped his wand on a piece of parchment, changing it into a small cage.

Before the time travelers could comprehend what he was talking about, he lazily flicked his wand in Draco's direction. Somehow, though he was hiding behind Hermione, the spell still hit Draco instead. He flew through the air, yelling, and a scream of irritation escaped Hermione.

Words of protest froze in her throat the moment she realized what happened, and the three time travelers' mouths dropped open.

Seconds later, a loud snort came from Harry's direction, and the corner of Ginny's lips twitched. An all too familiar memory from their previous timeline appeared in their minds' eyes at the same time as Ron's famous words.

" _Draco Malfoy, the amazing bouncing ferret."_

Trapped inside the cage was a pure white ferret, which was squealing at the top of its voice as it tried to get out. Its pleading eyes landed on Hermione.

"Keep them here," Voldemort instructed Snape, rising from the armchair.

"What—Why—You can't just turn him into a ferret!" Hermione sputtered.

In the blink of an eye, Voldemort was standing in front of her. His fingers curled around her arm, and he pulled her into his arms.

"I'll be back later, Severus," he said.

Amidst Harry and Ginny's shouts of objection—and Draco's squeals—Voldemort Apparated with Hermione out of the room.

~-0-~

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **A/N** : Many thanks to my beta, MaraudersWolf from PI and Nerys. 


	48. Chapter 48

Harry and Ginny stared at the spot where Voldemort and Hermione had just been seconds ago.

"How wonderfully horrendous. Out of all the imbecilic dunces, I have to be stuck with the three of you," Snape griped.

The two remaining, still-in-human-form time travelers turned around and stared at him.

Apparently, some things never changed, regardless of what timeline or future they were in.

Harry had to say that he found the situation uncomfortable—though that was pretty much an understatement. It was one thing knowing what Snape did for loving Lily. Sure, Harry honored the man and found him extremely brave for daring to betray Lord Voldemort. However, it was a whole different case reencountering the alive version of said Potions professor. Especially when it was apparent that Snape despised Harry every bit as much as he did in the original timeline.

The appearance of Snape also made Harry wonder which side the man was truly on. Was he still helping Dumbledore? Or had he joined Voldemort, since Lily was still alive?

The moment those familiar cold, coal-black eyes met with his, however, Harry looked away, remembering quite well that Snape knew Legilimency.

"No retort from the  _ **famous**_  Harry Potter? My, my, and to think that some things will never change. Or perhaps I've been lucky and the Dark Lord had made you permanently silent with a spell?" Snape continued.

 _Famous?_  Harry thought.

If he were famous in this timeline, then things were strange indeed. For one thing, Voldemort did not seem to be intent on killing him, and Lily and James Potter were still alive. So what would he be famous for?

"Where's Hermione?" Harry asked as politely as he could.

After all, Snape did save his life, regardless of the reason for it.

Snape's eyebrow shot up before his expression faded back to one of cold sarcasm. "What other pranks do you have up your sleeve again this time, Potter? Being disgustingly polite will not let me fall into your trap, so let's get it over and done with."

_Pranks?_

For a moment, Harry wondered if the Harry Potter in this timeline was perhaps similar in personality to the Weasley twins. However, he was far more worried about Hermione's well-being at the current moment. Though her relationship with Riddle was …  _ **strange**_ , in lighter terms, Harry did not forget that they were in a different era right now. What if Voldemort hurt Hermione? He had to find her before any harm was done to her.

"I just want to know where Hermione is," Harry answered.

"Lost your glasses somewhere, Potter? She's with the Dark Lord."

"I want to know—" Harry took a step towards him. "—where he took her."

Vicious amusement and grim disgust alternated at remarkable speed on Snape's face.

"That," Snape answered, "is none of your concern."

"She is my friend," Harry argued.

It was becoming a cumbersome feat for him, to be honest. He had thought it was obvious that Hermione was one of his best friends. Of course she was his concern. Yet, this was the second time he had had to voice it out loud within the last hour.

"Then let's hope that she's not being placed under a torture curse now, shall we?" Snape's lips curved into a sneer again.

Harry's eyes narrowed, and without giving Snape a reply, he turned on his feet and stalked towards the door with Ginny in tow.

"Where do you think you're going, Potter?" the cold voice sounded behind them.

"To the toilet," Harry answered randomly.

"Keep it in."

"I can't," Harry lied. "Emergency."

Snape's eyes turned into mere slits before he stood up and swept over to the door, much to Harry and Ginny's surprise.

"Very well then." Snape glared down at them. "I shall accompany you to the toilet, Potter. If I find out that you are lying—" He paused here, giving Harry and Ginny sufficient time to imagine what words might follow. "—I have a rather …  _ **convenient**_  spell that will make you feel as if you need to go for the next twenty-four hours."

Harry stared back at him, unwilling to back down and keeping his mind as blank as possible. He'd Occluded Voldemort before, so it shouldn't be too hard to Occlude Snape, should it?

The moment Snape tried to open the door however, the three of them froze. Though the doorknob turned, the rest of the door wouldn't budge. After attempting it a couple of times, Snape bared his teeth before pulling his face back into check. Then, he turned on his heel and prowled back to the desk—his desk. It was obvious to Harry now that the current Headmaster must be Snape, and there was no doubt that Voldemort must have been the one who had put him in that position.

It took a certain degree of sadism to allow Snape to become Headmaster of  _ **any**_  school after all.

With a flick of his wand, Snape conjured a pail in the middle of the room.

Harry stared at the pail.  _Uh?_

"Well, didn't you say you needed to go?" Snape asked irately.

Harry's eyes went back to Snape. "What's wrong with the toilet?"

Did Snape really expect him to go in front of an audience?

"There's nothing wrong with the toilet, but there's obviously something wrong anywhere you appear in," Snape answered with a scowl and pure hatred directed towards Harry. "I should thank my lucky stars that I didn't become Headmaster until your final year, or else Merlin knows what else would have happened to my office. The Dark Lord clearly knows this, too, since he doesn't want  _ **you**_  anywhere near him, to the point that he decided to lock you in here with me."

"Locked? You mean we're locked in here?" Ginny asked in shock.

"That's what I said, Miss Weasley," Snape replied coldly, sparing a glance at her.

"But we can't be locked in here. If you're the Headmaster, Hogwarts is supposed to listen to your commands," Harry pointed out.

If Heads could Apparate in and out of Hogwarts, then a simple door couldn't be too hard.

Snape merely gave him a mocking look before staring back at the parchments on the desk. That chipped another piece of Harry's patience off.

"You know where Hermione is, don't you?"

"Can't hold up with the pretense of politeness anymore already? And here I was, thinking that I would have to put up with that sickening act of yours," Snape drawled. "The Dark Lord took Miss Granger with him, so why would I know where she is?"

"They're still in the castle though, aren't they?" Harry asked, panic working its way into his voice.

Snape's gaze slid over to him again, and a nasty smile appeared on his sallow face. "What happened to your  _ **emergency**_ , Potter?"

Harry's mouth snapped shut, and unconsciously, his eyes flickered over to the pail sitting innocently in the middle of the room.

"Well, well, well … hopefully that abysmally small brain of yours retained what I've told you I'd do to you if I found out you've lied to me."

"I can't go in front of you and Ginny," Harry argued.

Another flick of his wand and a cardboard box appeared next to the pail.

"Problem solved."

"That's not a solution," Harry said. "The sounds … the cardboard doesn't even muffle out the sounds."

A sound that resembled a growl escaped Snape, and he stood up sharply from his chair. "You have a wand. Put up a Silencing Spell, conjure flowers to block out the stench, cleanse yourself with a Cleaning Spell—I do not care. Although it amazes me, too, you're a wizard, Potter, and every once in a while, maybe you'll get a spell or two right without blasting the closest object to the moon."

With that, he sat back down and pretended the three of them did not exist.

Though Harry did not know ferret body language, he could have sworn that Draco was rolling in the cage laughing.

After the awkward feat of relieving himself into a pail, surrounded by pieces of cardboard, while avoiding Ginny's eyes, Harry looked back at the man behind the desk. Harry could almost see the traces of amusement on Snape's face.

Harry wouldn't be the least bit surprised if Snape was internally laughing right now.

"Is Hermione still inside Hogwarts?" Harry asked, pushing his embarrassment aside.

"Be quiet," came the command.

"I want— _ **need**_  to know if she's safe right now," Harry pressed on.

Apparently, Snape's patience had reached its limit, and he whipped his wand towards Harry. The spell hit Harry before he could yell, and when the noise did escape his mouth, a loud croak came out instead.

Shocked, he stared at Snape—or at least, tried to, since the table had become irrationally high. Did he fall over when Snape's spell hit him?

"Harry!" Ginny's scream came from beside him, and Harry tried to turn around to look at her, to find out what was wrong, but found it strangely difficult to do so.

Seconds later, however, he no longer had to worry about that, since Ginny's face came into view. That was also when Harry found out that his problem was far from being solved. Ginny, like Snape's table, was inconceivably tall. Either Snape had enlarged the room or had shrunk him—the second option seemed much more logical to Harry.

Harry tried to speak, but only one sound came out.

"Ribbit."

"What did you do to him?" Ginny demanded, swirling around towards Snape.

"Giving him a hint of what his Animagus form would have looked like."

"This—you can't do this! It's strictly forbidden to use Transfiguration on students—" Ginny yelled.

Snape stood up from the desk slowly, a horrible grin stretched across his face. "Try telling that to the Dark Lord, Miss Weasley. I'm sure he would have a …  _ **wonderful**_  time explaining that to you and your parents."

A growl erupted from Ginny's mouth, and she whipped out her wand. Nonetheless, Snape was much faster. The moment Ginny's wand was securely in Snape's left hand, a furry animal appeared in the spot Ginny had been standing in—

She had been turned into a red fox.

After the initial anger was replaced by helplessness, Harry tried to sigh, but all that came out of his huge toad lips was another loud "ribbit."

For the first time since he came back—came to this future, he wished that he was merely in a nightmare.

~-0-~

The nauseating sensation from Side-Along Apparition rushed through Hermione, and she very nearly threw up the moment they appeared in the room. With her eyes closed, she leaned against him for support, and her mind vaguely registered the fact that he waved his wand over her body, cleaning the debris off her and her clothes. Regardless of how many times she had Apparated before, she still despised that feeling.

Not to mention he had just broken the silent resolution she had just made a few hours ago.

The moment that thought went through her mind, she connected her right fist with his arm.

"Ow," he said, more out of surprise than pain, since she could hardly muster enough energy to hit him for real. "What was that for?"

"For making me travel by magic again after that horrendous time traveling spell by Slytherin," Hermione answered and furrowed her eyebrows. "And you shouldn't be able to Apparate inside of Hogwarts."

"According to the books." He snickered.

"Unless you're the Headmaster," Hermione added, tilting her head up to look at him.

"Does it look like I want to boss those little idiots—"

Hermione's frown deepened.

"—around when I have better things to do?" Voldemort asked.

"Then my point's proven. You shouldn't be able to Apparate inside of Hogwarts," Hermione said.

He looked around the room. "Well, if you want to imagine that McGonagall's office—" He waved his hand around them. "—is the Head's office, I have no problem with that."

"What are we doing in McGonagall's office?" Hermione asked. She then shook her head. "We have to go back to the Head's office. Draco—You can't just change him into a ferret like that—"

"I can't?" Voldemort asked.

"—What if it causes long-term problems to him?"

"Granger, you should've read enough Transfiguration books to know that no long-term problems would permanently inflict a person who has been Transfigured to an object or an animal," Voldemort replied.

" _It hasn't been proven_!" Hermione protested. "Morano's  _The Complexity of Transfiguration_ , Chapter 12."

"Werewolves have to stay in their wolf forms for whole nights. Does it look like they're retaining fur or fangs in their human forms?" Voldemort pointed out.

"Look at Fenrir and tell me he doesn't look at least ninety percent like a wolf pretending to be a human—"

He snorted.

"—and Animagi always retain certain personalities from the animal they turn into—"

"Does it make a difference?" Voldemort interrupted her.

Hermione's mouth dropped open. "What?"

"Does it make a difference?" he repeated himself. "Wizards and witches change into a certain Animagus form because they have the qualities of that particular animal. And—" He held up his hand when he saw Hermione open her mouth. "—you can't tell me that the Malfoys do not have uncanny resemblances to ferrets."

Uncontrollably, the corners of Hermione's lips twitched. "That's not the point."

Nonetheless, she could not keep bits and pieces of laughter from entering her voice, and it hardly escaped Voldemort's notice.

"That's precisely the point," he said. His red eyes glinted in a mischievous way, and she could almost see traces of the Tom she had known.

"No, it's not," Hermione answered, though the corners of her lips twitched upwards.

She should feel more frightened of him. He was the person who had caused so much fear in the Wizarding World, and he had done it with the serpentine looks he had right now. Though Hermione acknowledged the fact that there were no differences between Lord Voldemort and Tom Marvolo Riddle, it was harder for people to associate Tom's unjustly handsome looks with the evil deeds he had done—the looks of an angel should not be granted to someone with the heart of a demon. Nonetheless, she could not stop the inexplicable attraction she felt towards him. Perhaps she had underestimated how much she cared for him, and she was slowly coming to terms with herself after she experienced the unprecedented glee she felt upon seeing that Lord Voldemort was still alive in this future.

However ...

Were her parents alright? Draco mentioned that his parents were in the Order of the Phoenix instead of Harry's parents, and the Weasleys were on Tom's side instead of Dumbledore's side. But that told her nothing about what Tom's thoughts were on the subject.

Hermione furrowed her eyebrows at the mere thought of Tom being a Muggle supporter. He hated Muggles, didn't he? However, she doubted Tom was the best person to ask, and she didn't want to give him any ideas. Mentioning her parents to him might put them in unnecessary danger and give him something to hold over her. She would have to fish answers out of him rather than ask him straight out.

She looked back at him with a sarcastic glint in her eyes. "And since when did  _ **you**_  become a Muggle supporter, Mr. Muggles-Are-Filth?"

He gazed back at her, amused. "Who said anything about supporting Muggles?"

"Oh, give me a break," she huffed. "Lily Potter's a Muggle-born, and she's following you. Lucius I-Have-My-Nose-In-The-Air-Because-I'm-A-Pureblood Malfoy is on the run because you're in power. Need I give you more examples?"

"That still doesn't mean I support Muggles, Granger," Voldemort answered.

Hermione raised her eyebrows at him, and he answered by mimicking her expression, grating her nerves. With difficulty, she managed to rein in her temper and keep it in check, but only just.

"What else did you change?" she asked.

He shrugged. "How am I supposed to know?"

"Riddle," she growled.

He rolled his eyes. "Hermione, I don't know what happened in your timeline, so how am I supposed to answer your question?"

She scrunched up her face, clearly recalling their interaction right before they travelled to Germany. She suspected that Joseph, Gareth, or Alphard might have told Tom about the four of them being from the future. If her hunch was correct, that meant that Tom knew more about her timeline than he was allowing her to believe. However, she doubted that he would be willing to tell her truthfully.

"You must have had some idea of what you were going to do before we arrived at Hogwarts. What kind of plans changed?" she asked instead.

"Oh, I was planning to get married with a wonderful witch, have a whole Quidditch team of children with her—By gods, you're still as violent as ever, Hermione," he said, catching the fist that nearly rammed into his chest.

"Does it look like I'm in the mood to play games with you, Riddle?"

"Got your hair ruffled the wrong way?" Voldemort asked, running a thumb down the side of her hand.

A barely noticeable shiver through her body, and she sent him a warning glare in response to his attempt to divert her attention.

"What did you change? Why are the Potters and Weasleys following you? I thought …" she trailed off, half of her mind still worried that this might be a plot cooked up by Slytherin and Tom.

"That they were Gryffindors, through and through?" Voldemort finished for her.

The smug look made Hermione's hand itch to punch it off. However, she resisted the urge and nodded.

Joseph Potter and Gareth Weasley had been Gryffindors. So the relatives of the two of them shouldn't be too different, should they? And from her timeline, Molly, Arthur, James, and Lily were all Gryffindors, too.

"I thought you were all about the purity of blood and what not," Hermione added.

Voldemort sighed and released her hand. "And surround myself with mindless, stupid, useless families? I prefer not to enter the grave prematurely."

"All your followers at Hogwarts were pure-blood Slytherins," Hermione countered, tilting her head to the side challengingly.

"Hence my assessment of the lot of them being stupid," Voldemort replied with a snicker. He paused for a second and stared at her in thought. "Which meant that that was precisely what I did in your original timeline. What happened? Did I somehow swap brains with Potter?"

Hermione's eyes narrowed, and it took all her strength to restrain her tongue. She awfully wanted to tell him that he was the one who chose Harry as his equal in her timeline, but she had a feeling that it would be a bad idea to tell him that.

"So what's your agenda now if it's not 'all Mudbloods and Muggles are filth?' 'We're all one big family and should get along with one another?'" Hermione asked condescendingly.

"Now, now, Hermione. You were sorted in Gryffindor. You should know better than to call people with unfortunate bloodlines that awful name," Voldemort teased.

Her hands clenched and unclenched. Oh, he was definitely asking for it.

"According to the law enacted since the twenty-second of January of the year 1997 by the, at the time, new government—"

Voldemort looked distinctly pleased at this point, and Hermione had a hunch that he was the head of this "new government."

"—all pure-bloods are not allowed to marry pure-bloods, unless they could prove that they have mixed blood somewhere along their heritage—"

"Wait," Hermione said, an ill look on her face. "Are you telling me that instead of Muggles and Muggle-borns, your new targets are the pure-blood families?"

"Not really," Voldemort answered, not bothered that she had interrupted him. It was almost as if he had expected her to.

"That's what it sounded like," Hermione pointed out.

Voldemort thought it over before nodding. "Perhaps I am, in one way or another."

"And how do you justify the Weasleys then? Their whole family is pure-blood," Hermione pointed out.

And she found it hard to believe that Mrs. Weasley's excellent cooking skills were what kept the family intact.

"Oh, would you prefer me to start putting them on the Undesirables list, too?" Voldemort asked, feigning an innocent look on his face.

Those who didn't know him well enough might believe that expression on his face—back in the forties, when he still possessed those devastatingly beautiful looks. With his current snake-like features, it was fake beyond belief. It almost made Hermione feel as if he were mocking her. And he probably was.

"You fully know that that's not what I meant," Hermione said through gritted teeth. "It's just a pick and choose thing for you, isn't it? Those who listen to you get to live and those who don't get arrested."

"Isn't that the whole point of rising to power?" Voldemort asked.

"You—" Hermione closed her eyes and took a deep breath, trying to calm down.

This was insane beyond belief. Things were not supposed to be like this. Half of her mind was wondering why the world hadn't imploded because of all the changes that Harry, Ginny, Draco, and she had inadvertently made and caused.

"How is this any different from what you were trying to do before? This is unbelievable and … and … and downright  _ **wrong**_. You're still … still using the hatred against a certain group to rally followers, and I can't believe the Potters and the Weasleys believe the rubbish you fed to them. Honestly, you would think that with Joseph and Gareth as their ancestors, they would've—"

Hermione stopped herself just in time. She had no idea if Tom really did know about her timeline, and even if he did know, she had no idea who told. So, she didn't want to give him more information than necessary, just in case this whole thing wasn't real.

"You don't even like Muggles or Muggle-borns," she said instead.

He raised a non-existent eyebrow at her but did not comment which was why it took her slightly longer to notice the discrepancy of her words. He couldn't have possibly changed his plans around for her sake, could he?

"What … made you change your target?" she asked slowly.

His eyes flickered, and for a moment, he seemed uncomfortable with the situation.

"Do I need a reason for everything I do?" he asked. "I've told you already. I didn't want to surround myself with mindless idiots—"

"But you've already acknowledged that that's what you did in the original timeline. Something must have happened along the line to cause a change this big," Hermione argued. She paused for a second. "And I'm not going to buy the load of tosh that you're doing this 'for the greater good.'"

Hermione's mind was thrown into indecisiveness. Half of her mind realized how many things were wrong if Lord Voldemort were allowed to remain in power. She could never rest in peace, knowing that there were innocent people out there being hurt just because they were pure-blood. Just because there were people like Lucius Malfoy and Bellatrix Lestrange didn't mean that all pure-blood families deserved to be eradicated. There were wizards and witches who didn't have a drop of Muggle blood in them but were still some of the nicest people she had ever known. The Weasleys, for example, had always been kind to her. With her new memories, she also recalled how during vacations, James Potter would offer to take her along with Lily and Harry.

Besides, Voldemort was basically forcing people to choose their mates. The lack of freedom that that implied made her sick to the stomach, and she wondered why the Potters would put up with this.

"'For the greater good,'" Voldemort snorted. "Only Grindelwald would use that as some kind of rallying motto. Oh, of course, and your wonderful  _ **Professor Dumbledore**_."

She disregarded the mocking way by which he said Dumbledore's name; instead, she frowned as another worry was added to the pile.

"What happened to Professor Dumbledore? Where is he now?" she asked.

Did he die in this timeline as well? If he hadn't, where was he now?

The playful expression previously on Voldemort's face disappeared, and he stared at her with an alertness that was bordering on coldness. It was so out of the blue that it caught Hermione by surprise, and subconsciously, she took a step back. However, his hand was wrapped around her wrist immediately, almost as if he were preventing her from running away.

"Planning on saving the whole world again, Granger?" he asked.

Hermione recomposed herself upon hearing his words, and the recent memories of Dietfried and Nicholas came back to mind. "Planning on killing someone again, Riddle?"

Surprisingly, he relaxed upon hearing her words, and with a light tug, she fell into his arms again. His free hand landed on the small of her back, and he started rubbing small circles there.

"Not something you should be concerned about," he said.

"Right, just like Nicholas and Dietfried shouldn't be my concern either, should they?" she asked through gritted teeth.

"Exactly," Voldemort answered.

She tried to push him away but failed miserably. So, she contented herself by glaring at him.

"What happened to Nicholas, and why did you kill Dietfried?"

"Nicholas is … still alive," Voldemort answered, accompanied by a vicious grin.

"Where is he now?" she pushed on.

"I don't know," Voldemort answered smoothly. "I haven't seen him after I've left Germany."

Hermione found his words suspicious, and there seems to be something … awfully wrong about his entire attitude. However, she could not put her finger on it exactly. She would have to keep in mind to look into matters afterwards, since she doubt Voldemort would give her a clear answer. The look on his face when she mentioned Nicholas worried her, and for the time being, she could only hope that he wasn't lying when he said Nicholas was still alive.

"What about Dietfried?"

"What about him?"

Hermione looked at him scornfully. "Why did you kill him?"

"Didn't you ask that question before?" he asked.

"And you never answered me," Hermione replied.

"And what makes you think I would answer now?"

"Whatever it was you've planned already occurred, and I have no way of stopping you any longer," Hermione argued.

"Aren't we being a bit presumptuous?"

Hermione raised her eyebrows. "So you're telling me that the great, almighty  _ **Lord Voldemort**_  has yet to accomplish something?"

A glint of annoyance flashed through his eyes, but he didn't answer her, and the hand on her back stopped in its motions.

"Can't think of something to say to that?" Hermione taunted. "And to think that you've already have the whole Britain under your control."

He tightened his grip around her waist. "Having fun at my expense, Granger?"

"Just stating the facts," Hermione answered with a shrug. "It's been more than fifty years since Dietfried died. One would think that whatever you've wanted to accomplish would've gone through already."

Her lips curved into a Slytherin-worthy smirk, causing his frown to deepen.

"Just because there was a minor … setback in things, doesn't mean that I've failed in it," he said quietly.

"Sure," Hermione said in a sing-song voice.

"Granger," he said warningly.

"Mm-hm," she answered cheerily.

He inhaled deeply before saying, "Is there a particular reason why you're so delighted about this?"

"Oh, it's nothing," she replied offhandedly. "Perhaps because you're not accomplishing whatever it is you're trying to do because you lack certain information, and perhaps because you lack that certain information because you killed the one person who might have given you that information."

His eyes narrowed. "What do you know about this?"

She raised her eyebrows again. "Absolutely nothing. I'm just analyzing the situation through pure logic and my understanding of you." She paused.

Should she know something about this then? Her mind went over the limited amount of conversations she had had with Dietfried, and the only one that could be considered remotely interesting was the one about Nefertiti's tomb. However, she had always brushed it aside, considering it as Dietfried's way of avoiding the subjects about the Deathly Hallows.

But what should she do to loosen Voldemort's tongue? She did not want to mention the tomb first, in fear that he might not have known about it in the first place.

Voldemort eyed her for a few seconds, and perhaps he saw something that confirmed that what she'd said was the truth because his expression became visibly less tense.

That made her recall the fact that he was a master in Legilimency, and it was a bad idea to maintain eye contact with him if she wanted to keep her thoughts to herself. She mentally hit herself for not remembering that earlier, and she wondered how much of her previous thoughts he had seen. However, she could not dwell on her error if she wanted to gain the information she needed.

Lowering her eyes, she weighed her options. Knowing Tom's personality, if he didn't want to give her answers, she doubted she could pester it out of him. She would have to use some other method. Perhaps she could ask his followers. She was close enough to the Weasleys and the Potters to warrant some answers.

"Slytherin locked the four of you up for three days," he suddenly said. "I'm sure he prepared fluffy pillows and warm blankets for the lot of you." He sent her a sarcastic look.

Hm … the sudden change of subject was suspicious to Hermione, too, which meant that he was probably trying to prevent her from overthinking and working things out. That meant that she should have certain information about what he was trying to do. She would just have to wait until her meeting with Voldemort was concluded then.

"That'll be the day," Hermione said in answer to his comment with a derisive snort, recalling the cage they were trapped in.

Voldemort smirked at her tone of voice. "Had a run-in with him?"

"In lighter terms, yes," Hermione conceded.

"Care to enlighten me about your conversation with him?" he asked, sitting down on the chair behind McGonagall's desk and pulling her down with him.

She placed her hands on his chest to support herself, so that she could keep her eyes on his face while they talked.

"I doubt you'd want to know the details," Hermione answered, raising her eyebrows. Her forehead creased again. "What happened to him after he sent us through time?"

She heard a scream right before they were transported back to the future, but she didn't see what exactly happened.

"I doubt you'd want to know the details," Voldemort threw her words right back at her.

A low growl left Hermione, causing him to chuckle.

"Let's just say he's taken care of," Voldemort said, cupping her chin with his hand.

Hermione's expression turned into one of surprise. "You killed him?"

He did not answer and looked at her quietly.

"Did you?" she pressed on.

In the end, he finally nodded. "Yes."

Hermione snorted. "Bet he didn't see that one coming. So much for trying to escape death." She noticed his astonished look and rolled her eyes. "You didn't really expect me to fly off the handle on you for him, did you?"

Voldemort shrugged. "I wouldn't know. After knowing that you supported house-elves' rights …"

Hermione's gaze hardened. "That's an entirely different case."

"I'm sure it is," Voldemort cut in before she could continue. "I merely thought that you would've gotten upset over his death because he helped you come back."

She wondered if this was a test, since his eyes stayed firmly on her face while he spoke, as if he was gauging her reaction. In a way, she couldn't blame him. Their relationship had been built on a shaky foundation, and she hadn't even given him a proper explanation before disappearing on him. Granted, he probably knew that Slytherin would've sent her back to the future regardless of what she wanted, but he had no idea of her thoughts on the matter.

She had felt both guilty and grateful that Harry trusted her enough to let her handle Tom and her relationship by herself. After all, she had always viewed her intimate interactions with Tom as a betrayal to her best friend. Therefore, even if Slytherin hadn't forced her to come back, she would've gone all the way to find a way to do so. Nonetheless, that didn't mean that she didn't want to stay with Tom. If only they weren't on two different sides of war.

Glancing back at him, she had to say that the future they had returned to was wacky and still had things that were horribly wrong with it, but it was nearly a dream come true. She didn't have to choose between Harry and Tom in this timeline, and that thought lifted the invisible burden that had been continuously on top of her heart.

"Did I look like this in your timeline?" he suddenly asked, breaking off her train of thought.

Confused, she merely nodded, and amusement appeared on his face.

"So you knew right from the start." He shook his head and laughed.

Hermione blushed upon realizing what he was talking about it. "Intelligence is worth much more than good looks."

He looked at her skeptically. "According to some of your friends, that's not the philosophy you go by when choosing men."

Her face turned even redder, and she wondered for a moment if the "friend" was Ronald Weasley. If it were …

"And I do recall someone fancying Lockhart in her younger years," Voldemort continued, releasing her chin and running his fingers through her hair instead.

"That was because I thought he did all the things he said he did in his books," Hermione argued.

"Really?" he asked contemplatively, though it was obvious that he doubted her words. Then, he placed his hand at the back of her neck. "Kiss me."

The color of her cheeks reached a new level of redness with his command and the way he was gazing at her.

"We're—we're still—we're not finished—"

"Yes, we are," Voldemort cut in. "Kiss me, Hermione."

She shifted uncomfortably on his lap, and too many questions continued to swim in her mind. However, the look on his face told her that at the current moment, he was not going to put up with her interrogation. Tentatively, she moved forward until her lips were millimeters away from his. Her eyes met with his, and apparently, his patience had run dry, since the next second, he took the initiative and pressed her head towards him.

His free hand went under her shirt and caressed her back, causing shivers to go up her spine. The next minute, her hands were fumbling with his buttons, trying to open them, but the job was, needless to say, harder when her eyes were not on them. Once she got them open, she ran her hands down his chest. A faint smile appeared on her face. It appeared that somebody was keeping his body in shape. In fact, the muscles she felt were even firmer than she remembered.

"Merlin, I missed this," he whispered against her lips.

Could she hope that that meant he hadn't touched another woman? Regardless of the answer to the question, an unprecedented joy spread throughout her body, and she deepened their kiss.

His fingers curled around the locks of her hair, and he pulled her away from him. He shared a look with her before he attacked her neck.

Suddenly, he moved away, causing Hermione to look at him in confusion, and that was when she noticed the pendant of Slytherin's necklace lying in his hand. He looked at her and raised a non-existent eyebrow, holding the pendant up.

Hermione bit her lower lip, not knowing what to say. She was positive that she shouldn't mention that she had gotten it from Slytherin, and she probably shouldn't even tell him why she had it around her neck. Additionally, this also reminded her that she should probably turn the top of the pendant to turn on the magical field.

However, she should concentrate on the task at hand first: How should she explain the pendant to Voldemort?

"Just a trinket," she finally decided.

He did not answer; instead, he kept looking at the pendant, and his eyes narrowed ever so slightly. Before she could say anything, a frightening smile appeared briefly on his face, and Hermione could feel her heart stop for just that moment.

"Just a trinket," he repeated slowly, and his eyes went over to her face, drinking in her features. "A trinket with a magical aura around it?"

Hermione shrugged, her mind curiously blank at the moment.

"Where did you get it from?" he asked, turning the pendant over and examining it.

"France," she said, remembering her trip to it during her fourth year. "I went there with my parents a couple of years ago and bought it there."

She prayed that there wasn't some sort of inscription on the damned pendant because if there were, it would definitely put a hole in her story. Even worse, if there was something written in Parseltongue there—was there even a written language for Parseltongue? Hermione racked through her brains, but she could not recall a text stating that there was such a thing. Then again, there weren't many known Parselmouths out there and if there were a written language …

She did not dare to look at the necklace, knowing that it would be too suspicious for her to do so.

"I see," Voldemort said slowly after a while.

Much to her relief, he dropped it, and before she had time to think, his mouth was on hers again and kissing her hungrily.

And she could only hope that he hadn't seen something strange about the pendant lying innocently on her chest.

~-0-~

When they Apparated back into the Head's office, Hermione was surprised to see Harry and Ginny nowhere in sight.

"Where's—"

Before Hermione could finish her question, a red fox ran up to her and started tugging her cloak. The color of its fur was strikingly similar to a particular redhead's hair color.

"Merlin … Ginny, is that you?" Hermione squeaked as she knelt down and looked at the red fox.

Those were definitely Ginny's eyes.

"Who did this to—" Hermione's eyes landed on Snape, and the answer became clear to her. Narrowing her eyes ever so slightly at the current Headmaster, she looked back at Ginny. "Where's Harry?"

The red fox pointed with its paw towards the toad that was hopping towards them.

A soft chuckle came from above her, and Hermione was certain that Voldemort was having the time of his life right now, watching Ginny and Harry in their predicament. Snape, on the other hand, probably realized that his master was not going to punish him and now had a faint smirk on his face.

"My Lord," Snape murmured and knelt on the floor.

"Now, now, Severus. How are you going to explain to Lily why her son turned into a toad all of a sudden?" Voldemort asked lazily.

" _ **Harry**_  insisted upon searching the castle for Miss Granger, so I had no other choice but to … keep him restrained in some way," Snape replied, the smirk becoming more apparent by the second.

"I see," Voldemort said, rubbing his chin as if in thought.

Hermione didn't even bother shooting Voldemort a glare—she knew how pointless it would be. None of them made any move to change Harry and Ginny back, so she pulled out her wand and tried to reverse the Transfiguration Snape did. After trying a couple of different methods, a red light surrounded Harry and Ginny, and they were finally back to their human forms.

"Thanks, Hermione," Harry muttered as Ginny shot a glare at Snape.

Voldemort watched the scene play out before him with indifference. Neither did he stop Hermione nor helped her. When she looked towards him, a glint of amusement flashed through his eyes before he turned towards Snape.

"Severus."

"Yes, my Lord."

"For the time being, Harry, Ginny, Hermione, and Draco shall be staying in Hogwarts," Voldemort instructed. Looking at the ferret on the table, a smirk appeared on his face. "They will be staying in the Room of Requirement."

"Yes, my Lord," Snape answered.

With a flick of his wand, Draco's cage was lifted into the air. A squeak left the ferret's mouth, and Draco started scurrying around in the cage in panic.

"Follow me," Voldemort ordered the other three time travelers.

Hermione thought it strange that Harry followed Voldemort's instructions without a fuss, or at least, without questions. However, she then realized that it must be because he did not want to cause his parents any trouble. For the time being, Voldemort had advantages over them, and until they settled down for a bit longer, she had no idea how to work the situation in their favor just yet.

And so, the party of four went through the hallways of Hogwarts with Draco floating a couple of feet ahead of them. Hermione supposed that they were heading towards the Room of Requirement, based on what he had said to Snape and from the direction they were heading.

"He didn't hurt you, did he?" Harry muttered to Hermione while they were walking, and Ginny looked over at her in concern.

Hermione's cheeks flushed red as she looked at Voldemort from the corner of her eye.

"No … he didn't," Hermione replied softly, thankful that Voldemort had not heard Harry's question. She could already imagine the mocking and teasing glances he would send them.

Harry didn't seem to believe her, though she had no idea why. Nonetheless, he didn't continue pressing on, and for that, Hermione felt relieved.

When they reached the seventh floor, Voldemort paced three times in front of the wall opposite the tapestry of Barnabas the Barmy. Once the door appeared, he opened it and turned towards the three of them.

"What specifications did you put on it?" Harry immediately asked.

Voldemort raised a non-existent eyebrow. "That is none of your concern, Potter. Or should I call you Evans?" A condescending snort left his mouth. "Such an intelligent choice, to use the maiden name of your mother. I'm sure nobody would ever make the connection that Harry Evans is Harry Potter."

An angry blush appeared on Harry's face, yet he did not look away.

Hermione spoke up instead. "You've made the Room of Requirement into a prison without bars, didn't you? You're not imprisoning us."

"Who said anything about imprisoning you?" he asked, crossing his arms in front of his chest.

"Because you're  _ **you**_ ," Hermione retorted. "You're concerned that if we're allowed to run around the wizarding world freely, other wizards and witches would find out what kind of power you're really seeking."

A smirk appeared on his face. "And what makes you think that other people would believe in what you tell them about me, Granger?" Before Hermione could say something, he continued, "Things are different, dear. They trust me more than their own parents. I do not need to worry about random individuals going around and spreading unfounded rumors about me."

 _Not if that person is the son of one of your loyal followers_ , Hermione thought, but knew better than to say that out loud.

"Then let us set up the Room of Requirement by ourselves, if you're really unafraid about that," Hermione challenged.

A glint of annoyance flashed through Voldemort's eyes. "Granger, that wouldn't make any difference—"

"Quite the contrary. It would make all the difference in the world. At least we wouldn't have to worry about being stuck in there with no way out," Hermione interrupted him.

"Granger," Voldemort hissed, striding up to her. A pale hand shot out and caught her chin, tilting it upwards towards him.

Almost out of reflex, Harry and Ginny's wands were out and pointed towards Voldemort.

"Harry, Ginny, no!" Hermione yelled.

A nasty grin appeared on Voldemort's serpentine face, and he looked at them from the corner of his eye. With a fluid move, he turned Hermione around so that her back was pressed against his front.

"Forgot who your parents are following now, Potter, Weasley?" Voldemort sneered.

"Let go of Hermione," Harry said quietly, his wand unwavering.

"Oh, are you going to duel me now, Harry? Forgot about what happened to our wands?" Voldemort asked.

Harry's eyes flickered. Because of what happened between Hermione and Voldemort's duel back in the forties, he had no way of knowing who had won. The connection had broken off before they could tell.

"I don't care. Let go of her," Harry replied.

With a flick of his free hand, his wand appeared, and Voldemort eyed Harry. "And if I say no?"

"Harry, please," Hermione pleaded. She then glared at the man holding on to her. "This is cheating."

Voldemort smirked. "I'm a Slytherin, dear."

Hermione opened her mouth, but before she could say something, a spell left Voldemort's wand. Harry and Ginny jumped to the sides just in time to avoid the impact.

A scream of frustration left Hermione's mouth, and she started struggling against his hold.

"Thanks for making things difficult, dear. Victories are never fun when they're easily gained," Voldemort laughed beside her ear.

She reached for her wand, but much to her irritation, it was no longer where it should be, and there was no question who had snitched it. Since she could no longer use magic on him, she tried to kick him, but it seemed to have no effect on him. Either he was taking the pain really well or he had protected himself with a spell earlier on. Hermione was betting on the latter.

The attacks went on, but Harry and Ginny did not dare to fire their own spells back at Voldemort, in fear that they might accidentally hurt Hermione instead.

Suddenly, Voldemort Disapparated with Hermione. Before Harry and Ginny had the chance to blink, a spell impacted them from behind and sent them flying through the air. With shouts, the two of them landed inside the Room of Requirement. The cage holding Draco floated inside, and the last things Harry, Ginny, and Draco saw as the door slammed shut were the smirking features of Lord Voldemort and the still struggling Hermione Granger.

~-0-~


	49. Chapter 49

**Chapter 49**

_"I trust that you are intelligent enough to not try to escape."_

As if Hermione didn't have enough reasons to be angry at him, Voldemort threw down that simple sentence and a mocking smirk before Disapparating, leaving her all alone in a foreign room.

Still fuming, she sat down on the only bed in the room with her arms crossed over her chest.

That—that arrogant, idiotic, sadistic, evil git! She couldn't believe that she had started to miss him the moment she set foot back into the future. What was there to miss about him? Harry had made the right choice. The world was much better without someone like him.

Though now, Hermione had another reason to hate Trelawney. The old fraud had to go on and on, insinuating about "The Chosen One." That was why everyone believed that Harry had to be the one to vanquish Voldemort. Perhaps Trelawney fancied Voldemort, too? Was that why she chose the nicest person out there for the so-called prophecy? Voldemort would never get the proper amount of torture he deserved when the one who defeated him was Harry.

After coming up with various creative ways to off Lord Voldemort, she finally calmed down enough to take in the details of the room she was in. It was most likely Voldemort's room, if the color scheme of the room was anything to go by. She could hardly suppress a snort as she looked at the dark green sheets covering the canopy bed that she was sitting on. Trust a Slytherin to be original.

Then again, said Dark Lord also named a certain Horcrux "Nagini," so the lack of creativity wasn't too surprising at all.

Upon remembering the reptilian Horcrux, Hermione glanced nervously around, wondering if she were still around in this new timeline. If she were, Hermione hoped Voldemort had remembered to keep her locked up somewhere.

On the other hand, he would probably think it amusing to watch his pet snake chase after Hermione, almost exactly like what happened back in Godric's Hollow, except this time, she wouldn't have a wand.

After minutes of searching and not seeing even a speck of snakeskin in the room, Hermione returned her attention back to the finer details of the room.

Dark green drapes were tied to each of the posts of the bedframe with silver cord tassels. Bedside tables stood on either side of the bed with multi-branched candelabras on top of them. The bed itself was huge, for a lack of a better word. It was much larger than any bed Hermione had ever seen, and that caused her eyes to narrow for a split second. It had better be because he slept with his pet snake. If it were because of some other witch, Hermione sincerely hoped that Nagini was, indeed, alive in this timeline and either swallowed her owner or strangled him to death.

Opposite the bed was a dark, polished wood desk with a comfy-looking armchair right behind it. Numerous piles of parchments, a bottle of ink with a quill in it, and a single unlit candle sat on top of the table. Though the urge to go through his things was strong, Hermione knew that without her wand, touching his stuff would be synonymous to a death wish.

Two glass-paned doors led to the balcony, to the right of the bed. A third dark-colored wood door stood a small distance away from them, though Hermione had no idea where it led to. On the other side of the doors leading to the balcony were numerous dark oak bookshelves, unsurprisingly filled with books. At the far left corner of the room was an unlit fireplace filled with logs, flanked by even more bookshelves. Two armchairs sat in front of the fireplace, complete with a mahogany-colored table in between them. On top of the table was a silver-colored tea set, and in front of one of the armchairs was a rather tall pile of books.

Her eyes lit up upon noticing the amount of books in the room. She really, really wanted to sit down and read through every one of them. Of course, she knew that most likely, they contained contents about the Dark Arts and such. Right before she'd gone on her "camping trip" with Harry and Ron, she had read through a couple of books pertaining to the Dark Arts. The amount of books she could find that contained significant and useful information about them was minimal, and she could not help but feel downtrodden because of that. Not that she wanted to learn and delve into the Dark Arts, but as gruesome as some parts were, there were some interesting theories and spells in some of them. Additionally, the headache that was developing because of the excess amount of memories appearing in her mind might go away if she read some books.

Or perhaps she could find something about time travel in Voldemort's collection. After all, he seemed unsurprised by the fact that they were time travelers. So maybe he did some research about it while they were gone. After all, even if he did manage to get things out of Salazar Slytherin before he killed him, she doubted Slytherin would've been willing to tell Voldemort a whole lot of information.

Therefore, without further ado, she hurried over to the bookshelves and started picking out the ones she wanted to read. Once her poor arms neared the point of breaking from the amount of books on top of them, she hobbled over to the table in front of the fireplace and carefully placed them on top of it. Heaving a sigh, she sat down in the armchair and picked up one of the books.

Before she could turn to the first page, however, her eyes were caught by a peculiar-looking object, lying innocently next to the stack of books that was originally on the table. It was a golden scarab, about the size of a Galleon. In place of where the eyes should be were rubies, and an unknown turquoise-colored gem decorated the wings. Forgetting about the possibilities of curses being placed on the items in Voldemort's room, she stretched her arm across the table, picked it up, and examined it. From what Hermione could see, there was nothing special about it. Nonetheless, it was almost an instinct, something that struck a person before they could really think it through, and Hermione knew that there was more than what met the eyes with the scarab.

There must be magic involved.

"Should've known that it was impossible for you to sit still," a mocking voice broke through the silence, causing her to jump in surprise.

Turning her head around, Hermione found Voldemort staring at her, amused.

"I thought you would've seen this as the perfect chance to go through my things," he said.

"I prefer my limbs attached to my body, thanks," she answered dryly, causing him to chuckle. After giving the scarab one more look, she stood up and held it up, showing it to him. "You've gone into Nefertiti's tomb."

Voldemort raised a non-existent eyebrow. "I thought you were worried about your appendages."

Hermione looked exaggeratedly at her legs and arms. "Well, they appear to be perfectly intact at the moment."

Amusement flashed through his eyes, and he crossed his arms over his chest. "Curious how out of all Egyptian figures, you would say her name."

"Wouldn't it be a bit pointless to evade my question and play these silly games with me right now, Tom?" she asked, crossing her arms over her chest, too, and holding the scarab firmly in her hand.

He went over and sat down in the other armchair. Propping his head up with one hand, he gazed at her, though he remained quiet.

"You've found out about the secret chambers of her tomb from Ernsta?" she pressed on, deciding to get straight to the point.

"And you've found out about it from Dietfried," he said instead of answering.

She narrowed her eyes. "What, exactly, were you trying to find inside?"

"Nefertiti was a witch," he said.

"That's not the answer to my question, and I doubt you've gone there just to find out if she were a witch or not," she snapped.

He sighed overdramatically. "You've wound me, Hermione. Haven't you realized that there's a hidden researcher inside me? Haven't you—"

"Unless your name is not Tom Marvolo Riddle," she cut in.

He smirked, which caused her to roll her eyes instead.

"Your given name then," she added, tapping her feet on the floor impatiently.

He eyed her for another second or so before he glanced away towards the bookshelves. "Nefertiti was an extraordinary witch, it would seem. There were and are many treasures in her tomb that others had failed to find." He paused, and a frown appeared on his face. "It would seem that she had done it on purpose. There is some kind of magic—spells, traps, or something of the like—in every single room, almost as if she had placed some sort of guardian down there."

"Guardian? But … didn't you say that it's magic?" Hermione asked with a frown on her face and sank down into the armchair again.

He was not looking at her straight in the eye, so she could not tell if he were lying or not. Additionally, there must be a reason behind why he was telling her all this. However, the strangeness of what he was telling her allowed her to push those two things to the side for the moment.

Limitations were rather vague when it came down to magic. However, Hermione knew for certain that it was impossible to create living beings. Portraits, statues, and drawings could be produced, and they could be magicked to speak and interact. However, they still lacked certain qualities of an actual living creature.

Inferi, on the other hand, though created from corpses of a human, could not possibly be labeled as living.

Nonetheless, the way Voldemort was speaking made it sound as if there were a living being down in Nefertiti's tomb.

"Yes, but that magic seems to have the ability to detect who and what comes into Nefertiti's tomb. With that knowledge, it would almost pick and choose what to give you," Voldemort answered, the crease on his forehead deepening. "According to Ernsta, Dumbledore and Dietfried took everything that they thought were worthy out of the tomb already. However, when I entered the tomb, other things were revealed to me."

Rising from the armchair, he walked over to his desk. It appeared that Hermione's hunch had been correct. He did place some kind of spell over his possessions, since he first waved his wand over one of the drawers before he opened it, took out a book, and went over to where Hermione was. If the cover were any indication of its age, then the book was very, very old.

"This is what you've gone into Nefertiti's tomb for?" Hermione asked with her eyebrows raised as she stood up.

Voldemort shot her a look. "Of course not, but this is one of the things I've found in there."

Hermione took the book from his hands and flipped through the pages. That only caused the scowl to reappear on her face.

"It's all in hieroglyphics," she said exasperatedly.

"Not all of it," Voldemort contradicted. "There are words, symbols that aren't hieroglyphics. For instance, these over here—" He pointed out a couple of symbols on the page Hermione stopped on. "—are not hieroglyphics."

"What are they then?" Hermione asked.

"I've searched through different books. Apparently, these symbols do not exist in history," Voldemort answered.

Hermione stared at the page in front of her. "But it's written in here. How is it possible?"

"I've came to the conclusion that it must be some kind of hidden code, and I'm still in the process of deciphering it," he replied.

She looked at him in surprise. "You know hieroglyphics?" she asked.

He shrugged nonchalantly. "Somewhat."

Hermione gazed at him. She had a feeling that he knew more than he was letting her believe. That meant that he probably deciphered more than he was willing to share, but since the book was technically his possession now, she had no reason to press on.

Again, the question of why he was telling her all this confused her. Perhaps he wanted her to go down to Nefertiti's tomb, too? If she did find something down there, fat chance she would be telling him. She had no doubts that he would find some way to nick it from her.

After flipping through a couple of more pages, she reluctantly handed the book back to Voldemort. He carefully placed it in the drawer before locking it up.

A soft knock on the door interrupted them, and seconds later, Professor McGonagall entered the room. She cast a quick look at Hermione before she knelt down, though she seemed unsurprised to see her student in Voldemort's room.

"My Lord," she said, "Ronald Weasley is at Hogwarts and asks for permission to see Miss Granger and the others."

Hermione felt her stomach do a flip-flop upon hearing the name of one of her best friends and boyfriend—well, former boyfriend.

What was her relationship with Ron in this timeline? The memories she had been getting and was still receiving gave her enough information to come to the conclusion that they were still friends. However, she did not know if there were something … further in between them. She couldn't possibly be still dating him with Voldemort in power, could she? Honestly, she doubted Voldemort would allow that to happen. His reaction back in the forties when he found out she had a boyfriend was enough proof. But he didn't come into power until three years ago, so perhaps he didn't have as much of an influence over her life.

Then again, the Potters and the Weasleys were following Voldemort, so it was also possible that she had met him at a younger age. When had she started to fancy Ron in the original timeline? She honestly could not remember. If it were before Voldemort came into power in this future, could she still be dating Ron?

She felt her head become twice its size with the number of questions floating in her mind, and her heart was now beating at a much faster rhythm than usual. Therefore, she nearly missed it when Voldemort spared her an indecipherable glance.

"Is that so?" Voldemort asked softly.

His expression did not make Hermione any calmer. It was almost as if Voldemort knew about the relationship between Ron and her. What was he going to do with Ron? Was Ron safe?

No, if he had known about Ron and her, he wasn't one to wait. He would've done something already, and if he had done something already, Ron wasn't exactly stupid and wouldn't dare request to see her and the others.

Therefore, she recomposed herself and raised her eyebrows at him, waiting for his decision. She wondered what he would do. He wanted to keep Harry and the others trapped inside the Room of Requirement, so was it possible for him to let Ron see where they were right now?

Yes, he would probably do that because—Hermione had to stop herself from rolling her eyes—he was the Dark Lord and could do whatever he wanted to do without explanation. Most likely, he would let Ron see them separately, in order to have something to hold over each person's head. Well, except for Draco, but of course, Ron wouldn't want to see him anyway.

Voldemort turned towards McGonagall. "Allow Mr. Weasley to wait inside the Gryffindor tower."

"Yes, my Lord," McGonagall answered.

Once McGonagall left the room, Voldemort faced Hermione again and held out his hand. Lying innocently in the palm of his hand was her wand.

"You might need this if you are planning on a … long chat with Mr. Weasley," he said, amusement etched on his face.

Hermione's face hardened. "And  ** _what_**  is that supposed to mean?"

"However you want to take it, dear. I just recall some of the more …  ** _idiotic_**  things Mr. Weasley is capable of accomplishing and saying which may require the help of a hex to rectify," he answered, the corners of his mouth curving upwards into a faint smirk.

At that moment, she found someone who would serve as a better target practice than Ron, and conveniently enough, that person stood right in front of her.

"He's my friend," she hissed, snatching the wand from him, "and I doubt—I  ** _know_**  for a fact that that didn't changed in this timeline."

Though she admitted that there were some parts of Ron's personality that were … controversial, that didn't mean that she would allow others to say something bad about him. He was still one of her best friends, and she already felt guilty enough for cheating on him. The least she could do was defend him when the situation arose.

Especially when he wasn't the one being the git.

Voldemort didn't say anything; however, the smirk on his face spoke more than words, and that made her almost reluctant to hold onto him to Apparate to Hogwarts. In the end, she gave in to the chance to see her friend and the possibility to save Harry and the others from being trapped inside the Room of Requirement. Once she was at Hogwarts, perhaps there was some way in which she could help Harry, Ginny, and Draco.

Therefore, she pushed down the urge to hex him, pocketed her wand, and grabbed onto his arm.

She glanced at him when he did not Apparate them. An indecipherable expression was on his face, yet his gaze was serious and cold, resembling that of wild animals warning unwanted visitors off their territories.

"Do remember that I have the ability to keep Ronald locked up without any reasons or explanations to his parents, so if he knows more than necessary about anything that I deem inappropriate for him to know …" he trailed off, leaving the threat hanging in the air.

Hermione felt a flame of anger jump up, and before she could stop herself, she said, "And what is that supposed to mean? How am I supposed to know what to say and what not to? If you're so worried about every single word that comes out of our mouths, then what's the point of letting us see him? You might as well lock us up for the rest of our lives."

She supposed he was warning her against telling Ron what happened in the original timeline, but she wasn't too sure. In addition to that, she would estimate that she had received less than half of the memories she was supposed to have in this timeline, so how would she know if Ron could be trusted or not? Yes, though she now knew that she had become friends with Ron and Harry during Hogwarts in this timeline as well, she had no idea how loyal Ron was to Voldemort. If she told Ron something, she had no idea how long it would take before Voldemort found out. Besides, she knew for certain that, regardless of the timeline, Ron would never become a master in Occlumency, so it would be all too easy for Voldemort to use Legilimency on him.

The smirk reappeared on Voldemort's face, but he did not answer. Instead, he turned on the spot, and Hermione felt the uncomfortable tug at her navel.

"Hermione! Oh … er …"

Once the nauseating feeling of Apparition passed, she looked up and found the familiar face of Ron Weasley smiling rather awkwardly at her. The moment he noticed that there was someone else there, the expression was immediately replaced by respect and hints of fear.

"My Lord," he murmured, kneeling down.

Although this was not the first time it had happened since she came back to the future, Hermione still found it awkward and strange. A good part of her mind still clearly remembered how every person she had met so far had fought  ** _against_**  Lord Voldemort, not beside him.

Additionally, that expression on Ron's face when she arrived in the Gryffindor common room made her a bit uneasy. It almost proved that things were nearly like what had happened in the original timeline, and that, in and of itself, already made Hermione's head hurt.

Voldemort barely glanced at Ron. "Come along."

Without another word, he turned around and led the way out of the Gryffindor tower, much to Hermione's surprise. Was he really allowing Ron to see Harry and the others? She had thought that she would've had to badger him before he would allow that to happen. Wasn't he afraid that she might think of some clever plan to help them out? Or did he think that she was incapable of doing that?

Her eyes slightly narrowed at his retreating back, but her thoughts were put to a stop when Ron stopped right next to her, giving her a lopsided, apologetic grin.

"Hermione …"

Before he could say a second word, Voldemort turned his head slightly and looked at them from the corner of his eye.

"Do I need to repeat my words twice, Ronald?"

"No, my Lord," Ron immediately said, his face turning several shades paler.

He then clamped his mouth shut and followed Voldemort out. Hermione heaved a sigh and followed, thoroughly disgruntled with the situation in front of her. Throughout their whole walk through the hallways, Ron did not say another word to Hermione. However, that made the atmosphere even more awkward, since he kept shooting hopeful glances towards her. For once, she was glad of the authority Lord Voldemort had over his subjects. At least she had some time to think things over before she had to face Ron and … well, his affections. She did not want to just blurt out to him that she had fallen for someone else and could not be with him any longer. It would hurt him too much, and their many years of friendship would definitely be over once that happened. Besides, she was the one who had cheated on him in the first place, so she was the one at fault. She did not have the right to hurt him any further.

She mentally thought of different ways of how to speak to Ron, but each one seemed even crueler than the previous one. By the time they reached their destination, she still hadn't thought of a way to explain things to Ron and she was faced with another problem: How was she going to get Voldemort to let them speak in a different room?

Before she could say something, he opened a door that previously wasn't visible to her on the wall leading to the Room of Requirement. He must have added that function while he was setting up the limitations, which was why he could see the door but she couldn't.

He turned towards Ron and Hermione and gestured towards the door, as if he were a host welcoming them.

She crossed her arms over her chest and tilted her head to one side, causing him to raise a non-existent eyebrow.

"I thought you wanted to chat with your friends," he said.

"Why can't we chat in a different room?" Hermione asked.

Ron pulled on her sleeve, silently warning her. She, however, was not looking at him. Instead, she kept gazing on Voldemort. A flash of laughter passed through his eyes when he noticed Ron's motions, but he did not comment on it.

"What's wrong with the Room of Requirement?" he asked in return.

"You know precisely what's wrong with it," Hermione answered, narrowing her eyes ever so slightly.

"Hermione," Ron hissed beside her.

"Aren't you afraid that someone might overhear whatever secrets you and your friend might want to talk about?" Voldemort asked.

The hint of sarcasm in his voice did not go by unnoticed, and Hermione was further convinced that someone had sold their secret about the future to him in the forties. However, she had no idea if it were Joseph, Gareth, Alphard, or more than one of them. Each one of them had different reasons to betray them. Could the time-travelers have been surrounded by more enemies than they had known? She doubted Voldemort would tell her the truth.

Hermione forced herself not to think any further. For the time being, she could not investigate about it any further after all.

"We're at Hogwarts, which is  ** _supposedly_**  under your control. I would think that the security should insure that we have one hundred percent privacy," Hermione answered, a faux sweet smile plastered on her face.

Ron made a noise that suddenly reminded Hermione of the ones Draco used to make wherever Lord Voldemort was concerned. From the corner of her eye, she could see the panic and worry on his face.

"Ronald, why don't you go in and meet with your friends? I'm sure they would have plenty to talk to you about," Voldemort suddenly said.

Though his tone of voice was pleasant and courteous, it was clear that this was a command and not a question. However, before Ron could pull Hermione in with him, she grabbed his arm instead, forcing him to stay in spot with her.

Irritation flashed through Voldemort's face before he pulled a blank façade over it. "Granger, trust me when I say that just because I've been lenient with you in the past, it doesn't mean that it would always happen. The only place where you will be meeting your friends is in there and nowhere else. If you don't want to, then we can just call this whole get-together off. It's your choice, and do  ** _not_**  try my patience." He then snapped his head towards Ron, who was looking on at their interaction with a mixture of emotions across his face. "Go in."

Indecisiveness appeared on Ron's face, but in the end, his loyalty to Hermione won over the side that wanted to follow Voldemort's order. He did not want to abandon Hermione when he believed that she might be in danger. That made the guilt that had been gnawing down to the very core of Hermione's heart gain even more momentum, and she heaved. She could not let him suffer for her sake.

Nonetheless, before she could open her mouth and tell Ron to go in, a cold, hard glint passed through Voldemort's eyes. With a flash of his wand, the two of them flew through the air. A scream erupted from Hermione's throat, followed shortly by a yell from Ron. Just when she thought about bracing herself for the pain, she had landed on top of something soft. She cracked open an eyelid and found herself sitting in an armchair.

Ron, on the other hand, had a less comfortable landing. With a grunt of pain, he pushed himself off the floor with a grumpy expression on his face, though he did not dare to look towards Voldemort.

The room itself was simple enough and strangely reminded Hermione of Salazar Slytherin's house, complete with the wooden chairs and table. The only thing that was missing was the cage the time travelers had been locked in for three days. There were a total of three doors, not counting the one she came through, and she assumed that they led to the toilet and bedrooms.

"Grand entrance there, Granger," a familiar, Slytherin-ish drawl came from behind her, and she recognized it as Draco's voice.

When did he get changed back into a human? She would have to remember to ask later. Right now, she glared at Voldemort instead, who was leaning against the wall with smirk on his face and lazily twirling the wand between his fingers. It then occurred to Hermione that he must have made the door invisible to the occupants of the room, which was why Harry, Ginny, and Draco hadn't even thought about walking out of the room when the door opened from the outside.

"Remember what I've told you, Granger, and do enjoy your chat. No one else will hear your conversations," he said before exited through the wall.

 _Besides you_ , Hermione added mentally.

He must have also added some strange function that would allow him to know what they talked about in the room. There had to be some way around that, and Hermione was determined to find it. She would get her friends out of the Room of Requirement if that were the last thing she did.

"What are  ** _you_**  doing here?" Ron's voice brought her out of her reverie.

He was staring at Draco as if the latter were some kind of vermin. Though Hermione wouldn't be too surprised if that were exactly what Ron thought he was.

"What are  ** _you_**  doing here?" Draco asked in return.

"That's none of your business. Hogwarts is no longer under your parents' control. Do you think you can strut around like you own this place?"

"So you're saying that your parents own Hogwarts now? My, my, no wonder things are starting to fall apart," Draco sneered, flicking his finger at one of the chairs.

In a flash, Ron's wand was out and pointed towards him.

"Ron, no!" Hermione exclaimed, grabbing onto his arm.

Harry and Ginny, on the other hand, seemed like they were having a hard time deciding if they wanted to help Ron or Draco.

Ron stared at Hermione in confusion. As seconds passed, that confusion slowly turned into frustration.

"What are you doing, Hermione?"

Hermione glanced at him with uncertainty. How should she word this without letting him see it the wrong way?

"It's … a long story, Ron. Perhaps you ought to sit down, and we'll explain—" Harry was explaining.

"He's my friend," Hermione blurted out, deciding that speaking the truth would probably be the best way to go.

"He's  ** _what_**?" Ron stared at her in disbelief.

"I know it's hard to believe and everything, but—" Hermione started to say.

"Well, you've got that right. Do you know what you're doing? He's Draco Malfoy!" Ron yelled.

She opened her mouth, but before she could speak, Draco spoke up instead. "I think she knows who I am."

"Nobody asked you, Malfoy," Ron said, while Hermione shot Draco a warning glance.

Draco shrugged his shoulders, leaned into the armchair he was sitting in, and placed both feet on the table.

"Have you gone mad? Or did his father cast a Memory Charm on you?"

"I know this is hard to believe, but … Draco's not really such a bad person once you get to know him," Hermione said, ignoring the raised eyebrows from Harry and Ginny while Draco looked distinctly uncomfortable.

Ron stared at her, stunned. "But—but it's Draco Malfoy!  ** _Draco Malfoy_**!"

"And what, exactly, is wrong with me, Weaselbee? Afraid that people will realize how poor you are economically and mentally in comparison to me if I became their friend?" Draco bit out.

Hermione shot him another warning look while Ginny's jaw hardened, almost as if she were considering hexing him herself.

"I would keep my mouth shut in current conditions, Malfoy, unless you've forgotten where you are right now," Ginny said, her tone dangerously calm.

Draco apparently felt the threat in her voice, since he opted to snap his mouth shut.

"Does the Dark Lord know about this? And Mum and Dad?" Ron demanded, glancing at Ginny and Harry before looking back at Hermione. "And they tolerated this? They tolerated  ** _this_**?" He gestured at Draco from head to toe. "I can't believe it. I'm going to see the Dark Lord about this."

"Ron, You-Kn- ** _the Dark Lord_**  knows about this," Ginny said, grabbing onto her brother's arm before he could storm out of the room.

Momentarily, Hermione wondered if he could even walk out of the room, since there were no doors.

He twisted his neck around and stared at Ginny. "And he didn't say anything about it? I don't believe this. What lies did Malfoy tell the Dark Lord? That he's going to spy on his Mum and Dad for us?"

"Something like that," Hermione quickly answered, seeing this as a pretty good cover up for the reason why Draco Malfoy was walking amongst them. Nonetheless, the fact that she had to lie to Ron did not dwell well on her conscience, and she felt her cheeks turn warm as she said the next words. "Well, he, Draco, that is, he decided that … the Order probably isn't going to win against us, so … it would be better for him to join us … instead."

Ginny seemed to have caught on to what Hermione was doing, so instead of correcting her, she nodded. Draco just stared at them with mild interest, as if he were not the cause of their problems.

Ron stared at Ginny and Hermione for a short moment, his mouth slightly open. Then, he snapped his mouth shut before saying, "This is nuts. There must be something wrong with you."

"There's nothing wrong with us, Ron," Hermione contradicted. "We know perfectly what we're doing and we're not under any kind of spells or curses—"

"Then why are you helping and befriending Draco Malfoy?" Ron yelled.

"You don't understand, Ron. We've been through quite a bit in the last couple of months, and … well, Draco's not such a bad person once you get to know him," Hermione said.

"And why would I want to get to know him?" Ron asked, his voice not lowering in the least. "I know him well enough already. He's a foul git who doesn't know any better, just like his father."

"Keep my father out of this, Weasley," Draco warned with his eyes narrowed as he stood up from the armchair.

"Oh yeah? And what are you going to do about it if I don't, Malfoy?" Ron sneered.

Hermione could see his hand rolling into a fist in his pocket, and she was worried that this might turn into a duel instead. So, she stepped in between them with her arms stretched outwards towards the two of them.

"Stop. This is getting stupid. Draco didn't come here to look for a fight, and Ron, you're here to see us because we've been gone for so long, not to duel Draco," Hermione said.

"That was before I knew you decided to become friends with this scumbag," Ron said, the tips of his ears turning red. Then, he seemed to realize that he had said something wrong and quickly added, "I still wanted to see the three of you, but not this idiot."

Draco snorted. "Idiot? The crow calling the dove black, Weasley. I'd like to see who the real idiot in this room is."

Ron stepped forward but was prevented from lunging at Draco because of Hermione.

"Ron—"

"I'll show him who's the idiot," Ron said through gritted teeth as Hermione tried to pull him back.

"Resorting to brute strength now, Weasley? Can find enough brain cells in your head to give a proper, verbal comeback?" Draco taunted.

However, he had already circled around his armchair and was now standing behind it. If things boiled down to a fight, he would undoubtedly use it as some kind of shield or something to hold off Ron while he went for his wand.

"Shut up, Draco," Hermione warned before she turned towards Ron again.

"Are you helping him or helping me?" Ron finally demanded and turned his head towards Hermione.

"I'm helping the both of you," Hermione said firmly. "This is stupid and getting nowhere. You're just wasting time doing pointless things—"

"So now I'm the one doing pointless things?" Ron pressed on.

"I didn't say it was just you," Hermione contradicted. "I'm just saying that this whole argument is pointless. Draco is my friend now, and I don't want the two of you at one another's necks every single time we meet."

"You still insist that he's a friend? After all the insults he'd thrown at us?" Ron asked.

"You were the one who kept insulting me throughout the entire conversation, Weasley," Draco spoke up again.

"Hush, Draco," Hermione hissed before looking back at Ron. "Do you actually think that if he were a bad person, all three of us would fall for his act so easily? Just give him a chance."

"Give him a chance? Give  ** _him_**  a chance? He's a Malfoy, Hermione. Draco Malfoy, who had been calling you 'Mudblood' while we were still at Hogwarts. Don't tell me you've forgotten about that." He then huffed. "Then again, with the things you're telling me, I'm wondering if you've hurt your head or something during the last couple of months."

Hermione's face darkened. "And what, exactly, is that supposed to mean?"

Ron didn't answer. Instead, he gave her a shrug and didn't continue elaborating his words.

Hermione mentally counted to ten in her mind. The purpose of this wasn't to get into a row; they were here because they hadn't seen one another for a long time. Additionally, she still had to think of a way to get Harry and Ginny out of here without Ron knowing what they were talking about. What should she do? And how should she placate Ron?

"Ron, try and get along with him. You'll notice that he no longer calls me ‘Mudblood.’ He's not really as bad as you, er, we've thought he was," Hermione said as patiently as she could.

Ron shrugged again, but Hermione knew that her words had fallen on deaf ears. That further strengthened her belief that she shouldn't let Ron know that Harry, Ginny, and Draco were actually almost like prisoners at the current moment. An awkward silence followed, and Hermione had no idea how to start up the conversation again.

"Why are you staying here instead of the Burrow?" Ron asked Ginny all of a sudden.

He was avoiding Hermione's eyes, and she had no idea if it were because he was still holding a grudge against her. She couldn't say that the whole argument was entirely his fault. After all, Draco did take a swipe at him a few minutes ago, too. Therefore, Hermione decided not to say anything about it, hoping that he would be back to normal after they've chatted for a while.

"Didn't … Mum tell you?" Ginny asked carefully.

Hermione then recalled Voldemort's words, and she hoped that they wouldn't say anything about time traveling. She tried to signal something to Ginny and Harry, but unfortunately, both of them weren't looking at her.

"She just said that the Dark Lord didn't allow you to go home with her." Ron's eyes went over to Draco again. "Is it because of  ** _him_**?"

Draco's eyes slightly narrowed, though he did not say anything, most likely because he knew what kind of unfavorable conditions he was in right now.

"Not exactly," Ginny answered slowly, biting her lower lip.

"He wanted us to do something for him … the Dark Lord, that is," Hermione spoke up instead, having some difficulty calling Voldemort by that name. She hoped that her words were enough of a clue for the others that they shouldn't let Ron know too much about their situation.

Ron didn't look at her, and Hermione realized that he was still sulking because of their previous argument. Hermione bit the insides of her cheeks and crossed her arms over her chest. This was childish beyond belief. Fine, if he didn't want to talk to her, then she was happy to cooperate with him and not speak with him. Who cared if Harry and Ginny told Ron everything that happened?

"Yeah, he wanted us to do something for him, so he wanted us to stay at Hogwarts for the time being," Harry quickly added when he noticed the peculiar atmosphere between his two best friends.

"Do what?" Ron asked.

"It's a secret," Ginny answered when Harry failed to answer and shifted his weight from one foot to the other.

Ron's face fell upon hearing her words.

"Oh," he simply said. After a short pause, he recomposed himself and asked, "So what were you doing? The lot of you had been gone for more than a year, almost two years."

He kept his eyes on Harry, and Hermione had to admit that this hurt her a bit—well, quite a bit. She didn't see their argument as too big of a deal, so she didn't understand why he had such a big reaction. Perhaps he was holding some kind of grudge against her because they were gone for so long? But he did want to stay with her, even when there was the possibility of getting Cruciated by Voldemort right before they came into the Room of Requirement. So that meant that he still cared for her, didn't it? That thought made Hermione feel slightly better, and her anger slowly subsided.

"We were … traveling," Ginny answered vaguely.

Ron raised his eyebrows, expecting his younger sister to elaborate, but from the look of things, it became obvious to Hermione that the three of them had not thought of a story while she was gone. They probably hadn't even thought of the possibility of Ron showing up until it happened. All four of them had not thought it possible for Voldemort to even consider letting someone else speak with them. Therefore, Harry, Ginny, and Hermione shared glances with one another, though none of them said a word.

Their silence took its toll on Ron's patience, and his gaze became as harsh as his next words.

"Oh, so I suppose that  ** _that's_**  a secret, too, isn't it?" he asked.

"Well … yes … sort of," Ginny mumbled, averting her eyes.

Harry was looking on a spot on the table as if there were something there that interested him. Only Draco seemed to be having fun with this whole situation.

Ginny's words finally made something snap in Ron, and his face turned red out of frustration.

"But  ** _Malfoy_**  gets to know everything, doesn't he? Since when did the two of  ** _you_**  become friends with him, too?" he demanded.

"We're not exactly friends with him," Harry protested and finally gazed at Ron again.

Nonetheless, after the words left his mouth, Harry scratched the back of his head, and Draco sent him a mocking look.

"But we're not exactly enemies either. We've … been through a lot with him, and whether the three … the four of us like it or not, we're comrades," Ginny explained.

Instead of calming Ron down, it made him angrier instead.

"Oh right, so now the  ** _four_**  of you are comrades," he sneered.

"Ron, it's not as if we choose to be in this situation. Please be reasonable," Hermione finally opened her mouth again.

"So now  ** _I'm_** the unreasonable one?" Ron snapped, finally looking towards her. "When  ** _I'm_**  not the one full of secrets? When  ** _I'm_**  not the one who left two years ago without a word or a letter? When  ** _I'm_**  not the one speaking as if I've been given some immensely important mission by the Dark Lord?"

"We didn't say it's something 'immensely important.' You're just putting everything out of context with your words. I've told you already that it's nothing important, but you just won't listen. And like I've said, we've never chosen to let this happen to us," Hermione argued.

Ron fell silent again and ground his teeth instead. Hermione heaved a sigh and went up to him.

"Please, Ron, we do want to tell you … but you know that the Dark Lord doesn't like it when we don't follow his orders," she said.

Her words seemed to have an impact on him, since Ron's face slowly softened as he digested what she had told him.

After a while, Ron sighed, too, and glanced at her. "You'll tell me what's going on once the Dark Lord says 'yes?'"

Hermione gave him a firm nod. Slowly, a smile appeared on Ron's face. Then, he seemed to have thought of something, and his face brightened.

"Do you reckon the Dark Lord would say 'yes' if I asked him? I mean, perhaps I can do the mission with you. I'll tell him that you didn't tell me anything about it, but maybe I can be useful for whatever you're doing," he said hopefully.

Hermione seriously doubted Voldemort would do that, but knowing that it would make Ron happy, she nodded and gave him a bright smile.

"Yes, maybe he'll let you," she answered.

As she had guessed, that caused a big grin to appear on his face. He then went on to talk about what happened while they were gone, since they couldn't tell him anything about their trip. A brilliant smile appeared on Ginny's face when Ron mentioned that he was now running the joke shop with the twins. It appeared that Fred was not killed in this timeline.

"And can you believe it? Lupin and Tonks gave birth to their second child last year," Ron was saying.

It suddenly felt like some kind of bizarre dream to Hermione again, one that she was reluctant to wake up from. Everything seemed so … right and happy. Many people whom she cared for were unharmed. It was a future she could have only wished for, but now, everything was laid down in front of her. However, there was also that feeling of unease in the back of her head, as if she were holding onto a piece of glass menagerie, and at any minute, it might fall out of her hand and break into pieces.

"And … well …" Ron said slowly, glancing at Hermione with a sense of shyness and uncertainty.

For some reason, that made Draco snort from his armchair. Hermione couldn't be bothered to send him a look; she kept her eyes on Ron instead and hoped he wouldn't go to the topic she had been hoping to avoid.

Unfortunately, the gods were against her.

"Mum wants to know when we are going to get married," Ron said, his cheeks a faint shade of pink.

Draco's snort became muffled laughter, and Harry and Ginny were both gazing at her. Hermione couldn't help but wish that they would be a bit more discreet in this situation. It was already quite awkward without them gawking at her. Though she knew they would be listening in on every word she spoke, it was even worse when they were outwardly staring.

"Um … yeah … getting married," Hermione said slowly.

She kept her eyes on everywhere except on Ron, as if she were looking for some invisible form of help. Where was the stupid Dark Lord when she needed him? No, wait. That would be a bad idea. If he heard Ron talking about marriage with her, he would probably think of some creative torture method designed especially for Ron.

That thought was closely followed by another, and she wondered if Voldemort were in the room right now. That made Hermione's skin crawl. After all, they had no idea if the door were opened or not, since all they could see was a wall. He could have Disillusioned himself and walked in without them knowing.

"Hermione?" Ron called out when short period of silence passed. He gave her a look, obviously waiting for an answer from her.

"Oh … right … getting married," Hermione said, pushing her worries away for the moment. She took in a deep sigh, all the while thinking of what to say. "I … I think—"

"Oh!" Ron suddenly exclaimed, successfully stopping her from talking. "Do you reckon the Dark Lord can marry us?"

A choked noise came from Harry, and Ginny's eyes widened, but that went unnoticed by Ron. He was glaring at Draco instead, who was guffawing loudly now.

"What are  ** _you_**  laughing about, Malfoy?"

"Ron, I don't … I don't think …" Ginny stuttered.

Her words were interrupted by Draco, who was wiping a tear away from the corner of his eyes. "Don't mind me, Weaselbee. Go ask the Dark Lord about it. I'm so certain he would say 'yes.' Just do it where I can see it."

"What is that supposed to mean?" Ron asked with his eyes narrowed at the blond.

"He just meant that … it probably wouldn't be a good idea to bother him about these types of things … the Dark Lord, I mean," Harry answered quickly.

"Yes, he's so … busy, and I doubt he would want to know something like this," Ginny added.

A shiver ran up Hermione's spine at the prospect of secretly getting married behind Voldemort's back. She doubted he would take that very well.

"Come on, of course he would want to knows when Hermione's getting married. Mum and Dad always talked about how highly the Dark Lord thinks about her," Ron contradicted. He turned back towards Hermione. "So, when do you think will be a good time? They're predicting a lot of snow this year, so winter's probably not such a good—"

"Ron," Hermione interrupted him and successfully stopping him.

She knew what she should tell him; it was all in her mind. Nonetheless, when he stared at her with those sky blue eyes of his, she did not know how to say it any longer. It would hurt him too much if she just told him that she didn't want to get married to him.

"I … I don't think it's such a good idea to get married at such a young age," Hermione said in the end, a nervous smile on her face. "I mean … we're still so young, and we have so much more to do …"

"But we wanted children. A lot of children, so getting married early is good for us," Ron replied.

Draco snickered again, but this time, Ron simply ignored him this time.

"Yes, but … but we still need to serve the Dark Lord." An idea struck her right then. "And the Order members haven't been all captured yet. It will always be something that's at the back of our mind—"

"Yeah, but that's a long-time thing. We can just get married first and then concentrate on capturing the rest of the Order members," Ron said.

"Yes—No, but you can't expect me to run around when I'm with child," Hermione said, wringing her hands together. When Ron fell silent again, she sighed heavily and added, "You know that I do love you, Ron, but … but I'm just not ready to get married yet."

Much to her surprise, a flicker of anger passed through Ron's eyes, and with his voice harsh, he asked, "And how long do you reckon I would have to wait before you are ready?"

Hermione blinked and stared at him, not sure where his anger was coming from. "Ron—"

"Another year? Five years later? Or ten years later?" Ron asked, his voice progressively getting louder. "How am I supposed to know if this is just another lie? You seem rather talented in doing that."

The unfounded accusation took Hermione by surprise. "What?"

"Now I'm wondering how many lies you've told me throughout the whole time I've known you. Perhaps I should take a leaf out of the Dark Lord's book and learn Legilimency to prevent myself from falling into your traps again," Ron continued as if he hadn't heard what she said.

Draco let out a derisive snort and muttered, "Anyone can become a master in Legilimency then."

Ron seemed determined to pretend that Draco was invisible, or perhaps it was because he was keeping his concentration on Hermione. She did not know nor did she care. She felt anger bubbling up inside her again, and it was with all the control that she had for her to keep it from breaking loose.

"I have no idea what kind of traps you are talking about. If I've ever lied to you, it was definitely for your own good. Other than that, I would never—"

"Oho! The cat's finally out of the bag! So you've really lied to me before, didn't you?" Ron yelled.

"You're just twisting my words out of context again! I've already said, if I've lied to you before, it was for your own good!" Hermione argued, her voice getting louder as well.

"For my own good, for my own good, that's what you always say, but I suppose you're right. I wouldn't want to know every single detail of what you're doing behind our backs," Ron scoffed.

"And what is that supposed to mean?" Hermione snapped.

Ron rolled his eyes and didn't answer. Hermione stomped up to him, tilted her head up, and glared at him.

"Ronald Weasley, you better explain yourself."

"And why should I? You have a hell of a lot more things to explain to me," Ron said.

Hermione's mouth snapped shut, and she felt her heart skip a beat. Did he know about what happened between her and Voldemort? No, that was impossible, or else he wouldn't have stayed by her side and went against Voldemort's commands. But then what was he talking about? He couldn't possibly be talking about what Draco was saying before, could he? About her and Lockhart? But that was impossible. Though she had been getting snippets of memories about her years at Hogwarts in this timeline, she did not, for once, saw anything that intimate with Lockhart. Yes, she did chat with him a couple of times after classes, but that was it. She never snogged him before.

"Nothing else to say? Well, that's a change. I still recall how loudly you argued with me two years ago. Cat's gotten your tongue? Or did you finally find  ** _pity_**  in your heart to tell me the truth?" Ron sneered.

Shit. What did she argue with him about two years ago? She remembered clearly that they were arguing about Ginny in the original timeline, but apparently, that was not it in this timeline. This was probably also the reason why he was holding a grudge against her while they were arguing before. Something must have happened between her and Ron before she disappeared for the last two years.

Before she could say anything else, Ron's eyes went over to Draco, and he eyed him from head to toe a couple of times. An exaggerated look of realization appeared on Ron's face, and then he turned back to Hermione.

"Oh, I see," he said, slowly crossing his arms over his chest. "He's another one of …  ** _yours_** , isn't he?"

"What are you going on about?' Hermione asked, confusion slowly overtaking the anger that was previously in her.

"And you kept going on about how I only believed in rumors, but now, I know that they're all true," he continued, disregarding her question.

Harry and Draco shared a look with one another before shrugging in unison. Ginny, however, had a look of deep contemplation on her face. Hermione almost had the urge to go over and ask her if she knew what her brother was talking about because it seemed like Ginny had gotten certain memories from this timeline that coincided with what Ron was talking about.

"You can't possibly believe in them," Ginny said slowly, proving Hermione's hunch correct.

"Oh, so you're taking her side, aren't you?" Ron asked angrily.

"Ron, I'm not taking anyone's side, but it's … it's Hermione. She would never do that," Ginny said.

"I used to think so, too," Ron said. He then looked at Hermione from the corner of his eye. "But it appears that we're both wrong."

"What are you talking about?" Hermione repeated herself, irritation quickly building up again.

"What do you see in Malfoy this time, Hermione? It can't be his looks because …" He examined the blond again.

"As if you look any better, Weaselbee," Draco retorted.

Ron's words became clearer now, and Hermione could feel her ire rise to unbelievable heights. Nonetheless, a part of her still hoped that he was not saying what she thought he was saying.

Ron didn't seem to care what Draco said, since he continued to speak as if he hadn't heard him.

"And  ** _everyone_**  thought that older, useless, good-looking professors were the only type that you snogged. Apparently, Galleons had the same effect on you, too, doesn't it?" Ron lashed out.

His words caused an immediate uproar. Ginny and Harry both started saying something loudly and furiously while Draco stared at Ron as if he had three heads. Hermione felt the urge to hex Ron expand past her limits, and she would've done so if someone hadn't chosen that moment to interrupt their conversation.

"Care to tell me which professors in my school are considered, 'older, useless, and good-looking', Weasley?" a cold voice asked softly.

And suddenly, Ron's face turned into a sickly shade of green when he noticed who had suddenly appeared, leaning against the wall that led to the entrance.

"My—my Lord," he stuttered before dropping to his knees.

Voldemort pushed himself away from the wall and took a few steps forward.

"Well? Your answer?" he asked again.

"I—I—" Ron stammered.

"He's thinking Lockhart, my Lord," Draco spoke up instead.

Hermione had no idea when it happened, but somehow, he was kneeling on the floor, too. She could not help but find the situation in front of her strange, with Draco and Ron kneeling on the floor while she, Harry, and Ginny were standing.

"Did I ask you?" Voldemort snapped.

Draco paled and lowered his head. Unconsciously, Hermione stepped closer to him, worried that Voldemort might curse him.

"There's no point protecting your pet ferret, Hermione. I'm not in the mood to Cruciate him today," Voldemort said sarcastically before he concentrated back on Ron. "Well, are you going to give me an answer today, Weasley, or do I have to wait until the day Dumbledore sends me flowers?"

Harry, Ginny, and Hermione involuntarily snorted upon hearing his words, and Hermione could almost see the faint upward curve of Voldemort's mouth before he pulled his expression back into check again. Ron had not been affected by what happened; in fact, his body had started to shake by this point.

"It's—My Lord—I've—I've just heard—heard rumors—while—while we were back in Hog—Hogwarts," Ron stuttered.

"What rumors?" Voldemort asked, crossing his arms over his chest.

His red eyes landed on Draco before he glanced at Hermione. Suddenly, she felt her cheeks turn warm.

This was absurd. She was absolutely sure that regardless of what timeline it was, she would  ** _not_**  snog Lockhart. Nonetheless, from the look of things, it seemed as if the whole student body had been spreading that story around, and basing on her "friendly relationship" with Draco before they traveled to the forties, she was sure that he must be one of the propagators of said rumor. Seeing Voldemort's reaction, he had probably heard about this rumor, too.

"Well … er …"

"Ronald," Voldemort said warningly.

"Lavender and Parvati were going on and on about how Parvati had heard it from Padma, who heard it from Seamus, who heard it from Dean, who heard it from—"

"Get. To. The. Point," Voldemort deadpanned.

"They said she was snogging professors in between classes to get high grades," Ron blurted out.

Everyone stared at him, though he did not know, since his eyes were on the floor, not daring to stare at his Lord in the eye.

Hermione felt as if a bomb had been dropped on top of her.

"You idiot, and you actually believed what they'd said?" Hermione asked angrily, stomping up to Ron.

"Don't call me an idiot!" he said angrily, lifting his head to stare at her. "I didn't say I believed them back then."

So what did he mean? He meant that he believed them now? Hermione's wandhand twitched, and she nearly pulled out her wand to hex the moron in front of her if Harry hadn't pulled her back.

"He's just lashing out now. He doesn't mean it," Harry whispered quickly.

Of course she knew, but his words stung. The numerous times when Harry and he had relied on  ** _her_**  intelligence to get through things, and now he was using that kind of rumor to get back at her? This was ridiculous.

"Which professors?" Voldemort asked quietly.

Ron stared at him in confusion before remembering to lower his eyes again. "I—" He swallowed before answering. "Professor Lockhart, my Lord."

"And?" Voldemort pressed on.

As if on cue, a particular memory appeared in her mind at that moment, and she recalled who, exactly, she had been snogging in that classroom.

It was not Lockhart.

Oh shit.

"Ron, no!" Harry yelled, but he was a moment too late.

"Professor Riddle."

~-0-~

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **A/N** : Huge thanks to MaraudersWolf and Nerys for beta-ing the chapter. 


	50. Chapter 50

**Chapter 50**

Hogwarts had turned into a battleground between Hermione Granger and Lord Voldemort. Again.

Sometimes, Hermione wondered if there were something  ** _wrong_**  with the school. Events always seemed to inevitably evolve into something bigger and completely out of her control. However, after thinking things through more meticulously, Hermione came to the conclusion that there was nothing wrong with the place. There was simply something wrong with the idiotic Lord she was talking to.

Of course, she had been angry with Ron that day, and she had felt a strange sense of satisfaction, watching him getting paler and paler out of fear. However, that didn't mean that she was going to stand back and allow Voldemort to bring Ron to another room. Who knew what would be left of Ron afterwards?

The moment Voldemort told Ron to leave the room with him, she had known that things were not looking good for Ron. There could be only one reason why Voldemort wanted to speak to Ron "in private." With Harry, Ginny, and Hermione there, he obviously knew that it would be impossible to hurt Ron without the three of them intervening.

So without a second thought, she had exited the room with them before realizing that she should have told Harry, Ginny, and Draco to follow suit. Nonetheless, by the time she had remembered, she was already standing in the hallway and the doorway had disappeared. Therefore, she had decided to focus on saving Ron first. Voldemort had been most displeased when she pulled Ron behind her, and somehow, everything had escalated from there.

In retrospect, Voldemort had probably seen it as a hit to his pride when she openly defied him in front of other people, especially when said person was her former boyfriend. However, even if she were given a second chance, Hermione would have done the same thing; she could not bring herself to step aside when she knew Ron was in trouble.

She saw the outcome as a small victory for herself, since everything ended in somewhat of a stalemate. After all, she doubted most people could claim that they had had an argument with Lord Voldemort without ending up in St. Mungo's—or perhaps it would be a bit more appropriate to say, without ending up in a graveyard.

The moment Voldemort realized that he could not convince her to step aside, he had attempted to grab her and Apparate out of Hogwarts. Before he could have done so, she had pulled out her wand.

"Try Apparating with me,  ** _my Lord_** , and I'll make sure we both end up getting Splinched somewhere in Africa," she had warned, staring at him pointedly.

She had been slightly afraid that he might decide to duel her on the spot. After all, she was no longer facing that seventeen-year-old Slytherin Head Boy back in the forties. This was Lord Voldemort, who had years of dueling experience. She was not sure if she could beat him—unless she was extremely lucky.

However, the gods were with her, since McGonagall had suddenly appeared and whispered something to Voldemort. Apparently, it was something important, since after staring at Hermione for a short moment, he Disapparated on the spot.

Ron had looked awkward, probably due to the fact that he realized that she was trying to protect him, even though it was obvious that he had no idea what was going on. After all, it was not common knowledge that "Professor Riddle" was Lord Voldermort himself. Apparently, the Hermione, Harry, Ginny, and Draco from this timeline wouldn't have had any idea either, if they hadn't traveled back in time.

That thought had made Hermione frown, since that meant that there was also someone in this timeline who had sent them back in time  ** _and_** planted memories from the other timeline in their minds. But who? The answer came rather swiftly, and Hermione realized that it was most likely Voldemort from this timeline. Though the information Harry, Ginny, and Hermione had given Joseph, Gareth, and Alphard were minimal, it was most likely enough for Tom Riddle to deduce the rest. He must have realized the amount of changes he had made to his agenda after the time travelers appeared in his life; enough changed to insure his victory, so she doubted he would let that alter. Although, it must have been hard for him to send Harry, Ginny, and Draco back to his past, and that thought brought a grin to Hermione's face.

Hermione had tried to convince Ron to stay, but he refused. Later on, she wondered if he would have stayed if Harry and Ginny were there, too. She had followed after Ron, trying to tell him how dangerous his conditions were. However, she was forced to stop once she reached the entrance of Hogwarts; there seemed to be some kind of ward holding her back. Therefore, she could only stand back and watch as Ron walked some distance away before he Disapparated.

From that day on, Hermione stayed at Hogwarts, sleeping in the dorm she used to stay in while she was still in school. The strange thing was the fact that Voldemort had not appeared since that day. After all, nagging seemed to be his favorite hobby, second only to killing. Hermione would have felt a sense of loss if she hadn't thought of a way to go into the Room of Requirement without Voldemort's aid on the third day.

She had been on her way to the library when she encountered one of the house-elves by the name of Pokey. The poor thing had been carrying a broomstick and was on his way to the library to tidy it up. She had offered to help him with the job, but Pokey immediately looked offended. So, they ended up walking to the library together instead. If Hermione hadn't needed him to help her with something, she would have tried to convince him about the advantages of being free. As it was, she could not afford having Pokey run away from her.

"Do you work in the kitchens, Pokey?" she asked as she walked through the library door Pokey had held opened for her.

"Yes, Miss, Pokey is works in the kitchen," the house-elf replied in the signature squeaky voice of house-elves. "Pokey is like where all good house-elves should be. Pokey is where there is work to be done."

Hermione bit her tongue to stop a sarcastic remark from leaving her mouth and forced a patronizing smile on her face instead. It appeared that she would have something else to "chat" with Voldemort about when he returned. At the current moment, however, she should concentrate on her plan instead.

"What about the … guests in the Room of Requirement? Do the house-elves prepare food for them, too?" Hermione asked.

She crossed her fingers in private. She knew that the Room of Requirement did not provide food. In the original timeline, the Room of Requirement connected itself to the Hog's Head so that the people staying inside it would have a safe pathway to food. Nonetheless, she doubted Voldemort would add that option in for this timeline. So the only way food could be provided to the "guests" inside was by the house-elves. Surely the house-elves would need a way to enter the room. Nonetheless, she wouldn't put it past Voldemort to starve Harry and the others for a few days. She hoped that that wasn't the case.

Hermione's heart sank when she saw a frown appear on Pokey's face, but his next words made her relax. "The Room of Requirement, Miss?"

"The room on the seventh floor, right across from the tapestry of Barnabas the Barmy … the Come and Go Room!" Hermione exclaimed, remembering that that was what Dobby had called it.

The smile reappeared on Pokey's face. "Yes, Miss, we prepares food for guests in the Come and Go room, too!"

Hermione nearly let out a sigh of relief. "But how do you get in there? Can you get in there? You can't possibly get the food in there if you can't go in there yourself, right? Or can you? I thought … the Dark Lord made sure that no one can get in there."

"House-elf magic is different from Master and Miss's magic," Pokey answered, a humble smile on his face. "If guests is stay in the Come and Go room, Pokey can make food appears in it."

"Oh," Hermione said slowly.

That probably meant that if there were no one in there, the house-elves couldn't have made food appear in it, too.

"What if … what if you needed to go in?" she continued to ask. "I suppose you clean the Come and Go room, too, don't you?"

Hopefully.

"Yes, yes, Miss! Pokey can go into the Come and Go room and Pokey and other house-elves goes into the Come and Go room at night to clean."

Excellent.

"Can you take me in there?"

Pokey's eyes widened. "Master will be angry with Pokey! Master will be displeased! Pokey will have to iron his fingers for weeks!"

Oh, she would definitely need to talk to a certain someone when he appeared.

"Did he say you cannot bring me in there?" she asked, hoping that Voldemort hadn't placed that order.

He couldn't possibly have. Up until that day when he nearly took Ron away for a torture session, he had thought that she was going to stay with him.

"Master says guests cannot comes out of the Come and Go room," Pokey answered.

A small smile appeared on Hermione's face. "But he didn't say that you cannot bring me in there, did he?"

Pokey paused, and then very slowly, he started twisting his big, flappy ears. "No … Master is not says Pokey cannot brings Miss into the Come and Go room."

Snatching Pokey's hand away from his ears, her smile turned into a grin.

"Exactly."

~-0-~

With a crack, Hermione appeared inside the Room of Requirement, startling the people inside.

"Hermione!"

Grins appeared on both Ginny and Harry's faces once they realized who had appeared in the room. The two of them immediately rushed over to her and pulled her into their arms for a big hug.

"About time you found a way to come in here alone," Draco drawled on the side. Despite of what he was saying, there was a hint of relief in his voice.

"He didn't … punish you for what happened that day, did he? I mean … you followed right after him … he was going to punish Ron that day and you stopped him, didn't you?" Harry asked in a low voice.

"Just a second," Hermione said before turning towards Pokey, who had a very sad expression on his face. "Pokey, I forbid you to tell anyone—house-elves, witches, or wizards—that you were the one who brought me in here and I forbid you to punish yourself for bringing me in here."

It was pointless trying to hide the truth from Voldemort, but the least she could do was to try and protect Pokey from being tortured. If she could, she would've sent Pokey away to somewhere safe, but she knew that it would devastate the poor thing, and she doubted Pokey would actually listen to her and leave. In fact, he might just turn around and look for Voldemort to tell him what happened immediately instead.

After giving Pokey instructions to return in three hours to take her out of the room, she, Harry, Ginny, and Draco sat down in the armchairs provided in the room.

Taking a look at each person in turn, Hermione then said in a low voice, "We should check out if the  _Muffliato_  works in here."

"Even if it does work, we still don't know if it necessarily means that he wouldn't find out what we've said in here. He might've added some kind of function that would neutralize all kinds of spells in here," Draco hissed.

Harry frowned, and after a moment of thought, he said, "But it's worth a try. Go ahead, Hermione."

Giving him a curt nod, Hermione pulled out her wand and first tried casting the spell on Harry and her. After receiving confirmation from Draco and Ginny that they could not hear what she and Harry said while they had the spell cast, Hermione waved the wand around and cast the spell around the four of them.

"How's … Ron?" Ginny asked slowly.

Hermione wondered what the reason behind the uncertainty on Ginny's face was. Was it because Ginny was unsure about if Hermione were still angry at Ron? Or was it because she was worried about Ron's condition?

"He's fine. At least, I think he is. I stepped in before Vol—" Hermione stopped in her words.

Was there a Taboo on his name in this timeline? Hermione furrowed her eyebrows in thought. It seemed logical for Voldemort to do that, since the Order should be the only ones who would speak his name. Hermione really didn't need the Aurors Apparating in on them right now. Looking around the room, Hermione wondered if they could Apparate into the Room of Requirement. None of the books she had read talked a lot about the room, let alone about the extent of magic that went into it. Was there some kind of protection in it that would prevent others from Apparating in?

Harry, Ginny, and Draco seemed to have caught on to what Hermione was thinking because they shared a look with one another.

"We think the Taboo might be in place. For the time being, we have been calling him 'You-Know-Who' instead, just in case," Harry answered.

Hermione added in agreement. "That's probably our best option."

"So Ron's safe?" Ginny asked.

Hermione nodded slowly. "I stepped in before You-Know-Who could take him away, and then Professor McGonagall appeared and told him something. It seemed like something important, since he Apparated away shortly afterwards. I tried to convince Ron to stay, but Ron … well …"

She wrung her fingers together, wondering if she should have tried harder. What if Voldemort decided to catch Ron on his own after doing whatever he left with Professor McGonagall to do?

"I guessed as much," Ginny spoke up, breaking her train of thought. "It's so …  ** _him_**." She narrowed her eyes, and Hermione realized that though Ginny cared about Ron's well-being, she was still angry at him for what he had said about Hermione. "What an idiot!"

"He didn't really mean it," Harry said, looking back and forth between Hermione and Ginny. "He was just being … He was angry, so he was just lashing out and saying stupid things."

"Stupid words from a stupid git, how appropriate," Ginny scoffed, crossing her arms in front of her chest. "Anyone with at least half of a brain cell would've realized that those were just rumors spread by people who were jealous about Hermione's grades." She stared meaningfully at Draco.

Draco stared back. "You thought I,  ** _I_**  was the one who spread those rumors? Does it look like I would do that?"

"Yes," Harry, Ginny, and Hermione said in unison.

Draco's mouth dropped open, and then he quickly closed it again. "Alright, I admit that I'm a Slytherin and I  ** _might_**  have done something like that—"

"Says he who wanted to deny it," Ginny snorted on the side.

Draco gave her a look, but he didn't stop talking. "—but! But does it look like I have a death wish?"

"What are you going on about?" Ginny asked, raising her eyebrows.

" ** _Riddle_** , Weaselette. Does that name need further explanation?"

"So? What about him?" Harry questioned him, crossing his arms over his chest.

"If I were to spread those rumors around Hogwarts, does it look like Riddle would let me live to see the daylight? He was the Head of Slytherin and how easy would it have been for him to murder me while I was sleeping? I mean, right, Lockhart, I might have helped spreading  ** _that_**  rumor around—" He ignored the angry look Hermione shot in his way. "—but I swear, I have nothing to do with spreading the words around about her and Riddle. Pansy was the one who started talking about it."

"You didn't know Riddle was You-Know-Who back then," Harry pointed out.

"By gods, Potter, you couldn't have forgotten how he taught Defense Against the Dark Arts!" Draco exclaimed.

"… Oh. Right," Harry muttered, running a hand through his hair.

Upon being reminded that they had had their memories "updated," expressions of discomfort appeared on their faces. Though now and then they would still get a random flashback, it was not like when they had first arrived back in the future, when huge amounts of information were being forcefully shoved into their brains. The "updating" appeared to be nearing the end of its process.

The things they had done, the things they had said in this timeline …to say that they were not embarrassed about them would be a lie. It was certainly not a nice experience for Hermione to remember everything from when she first saw "Professor Riddle" to how she … well, how she started having snogging sessions with him in between. But … oh Merlin, she was almost glad that Voldemort hadn't appeared in the past couple of days because she honestly did not know how to face him yet. When she first remembered every single thought she had had about "Professor Riddle," she almost wished that the floors would open up and swallow her whole because she doubted he would have shied away from using Legilimency on her during their interactions.

No wonder he mocked her about whom she had fancied. When she had first saw "Professor Riddle," she had kept on comparing him to Professor Lockhart. She couldn't believe that she actually put up with Divinations so that she could spend more time with Lockhart. What was she thinking?

With memories from both the new timeline and old timeline, she realized that Voldemort had been parading around as "Professor Tom Riddle," completed with the name and the looks, somewhat like an "undercover" or something. It was the perfect way to monitor the children. After all, most of the wizarding world did not know how Lord Voldemort looked like before his snakey looks.

But how did Voldemort get his "Riddle looks" back? She was sure that his snake-like features were not the works of Transfiguration; it would've shown or at least had some kind of magical signature to it. Potions? It was a possibility, but it could not be the Polyjuice Potion; even if Voldemort happened to have kept toenails, fingernails, or locks of hair from his Tom Riddle period, it wouldn't have worked. The piece of whomever they were changing into had to be fresh, so to speak. That was precisely why Barty Crouch Jr. had to keep Moody alive during her fourth year.

"So … what are we going to do now?" Harry suddenly asked, breaking the silence.

Hermione cleared her throat and paused, not really sure what they should do now. Lead a revolution? Against what? Their families were on Voldemort's side, and the thought of fighting alongside **_Lucius Malfoy_**  … No, definitely not. She could not stomach that idea. The mere thought of it made her sick.

"We can't possibly fight for the pure-blood … Death Eaters … Order members … oh Merlin, what are we supposed to call them now? Death Order Eaters?" Ginny asked, a frustrated expression on her face.

Draco snickered. "Order Eaters?"

His comment made Harry, Hermione, and Ginny chuckle softly.

"Well, whatever they are, we can't fight for their ideas. I doubt they'd only want equality for pure-bloods," Ginny said. She stared at Draco again, who sighed.

"You don't really think I'm going to give you inside information about my parents now, do you?" he asked.

"Do you  ** _really_**  think of them as your parents?" Harry asked.

Draco rolled his eyes. "Potty, do you think of those people, James and Lily Potter, as your parents?"

Harry and Draco looked at one another, and after a moment, some kind of understanding seemed to pass between them before they looked away.

"But … you can't possibly think about going against You-Know-Who," Ginny said, staring at Draco in disbelief.

He ran a hand through his hair, fear and anxiety becoming prominent emotions in his grey eyes. "I don't know … I really don't know. It's not like I really have a choice in this situation, is it? I don't even know  ** _how_**  to help them. It's not like the Dark Lord's going to send me back to my parents out of the goodness of his heart. And …" He swallowed. "And it's pretty obvious that once Sparkly Eyes is dead, the rest of the Order is bound to be next."

"Some confidence you have in your father," Ginny muttered.

"It's  ** _not_**  funny, Weaselette," Draco said angrily, turning his head towards her.

An apologetic expression appeared on Ginny's face, and she lowered her gaze.

After staring at her bowed head for a few seconds, Draco slumped into his chair like a deflated balloon. "It's not like the Dark Lord's going to spare my father's life. Regardless of how I look at it, it's hopeless. I'm not delusional, and I know what those ragtag 'Order members' of this timeline can do, especially without Dumbledore's leadership. Trust me, I knew and lived with them in our original timeline  ** _and_** this timeline. The Dark Lord does not know mercy, and my father is one of the greatest supporters of Dumbledore."

His face turned sour upon that thought. The three Gryffindors remained silent, suddenly feeling uncomfortable about the fact that they hadn't exactly thought about things from his perspective before. Yes, they had been somewhat concerned about Draco's safety, but they had forgotten what this new timeline meant for him. Voldemort was never known for leniency, and with him in power, the Malfoys would undoubtedly be thoroughly tortured before they were killed if they were caught.

Then, Ginny seemed to remember something and turned towards Hermione. "Your parents should be fine."

Hermione nodded. "According to what I remembered in the last couple of days, I think they're fine, safely guarded by the Ministry Aurors." She laughed dryly. "Or at least, until I openly defy the Dark Lord."

"Then how is this timeline any better? We're all trapped in one way or another," Ginny said softly.

_And this timeline was created because of us._

That thought was left unsaid, although it was shared by each and every person in the room. Guilt hung heavily in the air before Hermione spoke up again.

"We can't really place the blame on ourselves." She paused, giving them time to digest that comment. "It's not our fault that we were sent back into the past. We've tried to avoid making changes to the timeline, but some things … some things just couldn't be stopped …"

Flashes of her interaction with Tom Riddle back at Hogwarts came into her mind's eye. A part of her conceded to the fact that there were no ways for her to escape her attraction to him. There was an inexplicable connection between him and her, and no matter what they did, that connection seemed to have only strengthened throughout their endeavors.

"Hermione's right," Harry said. "Instead of just moping here and thinking about what we can't do, we should be thinking about what we can do. Just because we can't change what had happened, that doesn't mean we can't influence what might happen in the future."

"So what are we going to do? Storm the Ministry?" Draco asked, rolling his eyes.

"Don't be daft, Draco," Hermione chided. "That's starting a revolution against the Dark Lord, who's endeared by nearly everyone in this timeline. Including Harry." She stared at the young man in question with amusement.

Harry grimaced. "Don't remind me of that."

Draco snickered. "Oh, I remember, and remember the times when he nearly glowed with joy whenever 'Professor Riddle' gave him a compliment?"

"Shut up," Harry said, his cheeks turning red out of embarrassment.

"And when he spoke about the Dark Lord? Merlin, I thought he had a crush on him," Ginny added.

"Not you, too, Ginny," Harry groaned as the other three chuckled at his expense.

Suddenly, Hermione recalled something. "Have the three of you turned the top of the necklace yet? We still don't know when that person is going to appear, the one who made us go back into the past in the first place."

"Oh." Alarmed, Harry quickly pulled out his necklace and turned the top as they were instructed by Slytherin.

"What, exactly, did Riddle do to Slytherin? I thought I saw him appear right before we got sent back here," Ginny asked as she turned the top of her pendant.

"He killed Slytherin," Hermione replied quietly.

"He did?" Harry stared at her, stopping in his motions.

Draco let out a whooping cheer after stuffing his necklace inside his robes. "Served that old bat right."

"Malfoy, he's the Founder of your House," Ginny reminded him.

"Who cares? After giving us white bread for three days, I hope Riddle tortured him for days before offing him," Draco brushed off.

"So we wouldn't have to leave that letter in the Chamber of Secrets for him then," Harry deducted, still looking at Hermione, a thoughtful expression on his face.

"Thank Merlin," Draco said with a relieved sigh. "Imagine going in there and meeting the basilisk."

"Your relative," Ginny mocked.

"No, thanks. It's enough having Aunt Bella as a relative. I don't need some deadly snake that might kill me in the middle of night when I'm trying to go to the loo," Draco replied, causing Ginny to laugh.

"But who is this person? Why did he or she send us back in time in the first place?" Hermione mused out loud, the frown reappearing on her forehead. "Unless … unless they wanted us to change the timeline in the first place!"

Harry, Ginny, and Draco stared at her.

"That's impossible," Ginny said. "You've said yourself that time couldn't be changed."

"I think she meant more along the lines of 'time shouldn't be changed,'" Draco said, "because nobody knew what would happen if time were changing. Well, we've found out now, haven't we?"

"So paradoxes wouldn't necessarily make everything disappear," Harry continued.

"But it would just change the world, like in our case, which is why the Ministry didn't try to go back in time with the Time-Turners to change history," Ginny finished for him.

Hermione shook her head. "Time-Turners have limitations. They can only take you back, at most, a few days. Going back years is impossible. There had been rumors that the Department of Mysteries, the one in the old timeline that is, had been researching about how to travel further back in time, but it was only in the early stages. They hadn't accomplished it."

"Who knows what they were going to do with it afterwards? I don't trust the Ministry any more than I trust the Dark Lord," Draco commented dryly.

Harry, Ginny, and Hermione nodded their heads in agreement. There was no saying what the Ministry would have done if they had known how to travel back in time. However, Hermione was hardly worried; she doubted the Ministry would ever develop a Time Turner that would allow them to travel more than a couple of days back in time.

"Do you reckon … that it was You-Know-Who who sent us back in time?" Ginny asked slowly.

"Wait, but didn't Potty vanquished him already? In our original timeline?" Draco asked.

"And my scar hasn't been hurting ever since that day," Harry added.

"But your scar hurt because of your connection with You-Know-Who and because you were carrying a piece of his soul in you," Hermione answered.

"You were carrying a piece of the Dark Lord's soul inside of you?" Draco asked, staring at Harry out of disbelief.

"Unfortunately," Harry muttered. "But he tried to kill me that day, and the Killing Curse killed the part of his soul instead."

Draco snorted. "And I thought he couldn't be any denser. That just makes him firing the Killing Curse at you during the final battle so much funnier." He glanced at Hermione from the corner of his eye. "No offense there, Granger."

Suddenly, from the corner of their eyes, someone else appeared inside the room. Hermione, Harry, Ginny, and Draco stared as the person stumbled forward. They had even forgotten to help him in his weak state because they were more surprised by the fact that someone else other than Voldemort had entered the room.

"How did he get in?" Harry asked, squinting his eyes at the person as if he couldn't see well.

"No idea," Hermione replied as she pulled out her wand and took down the  _Muffliato_  spell before hurrying over to the person. "Are you alright?"

"No."

That was his reply, except it wasn't, since his mouth wasn't moving. Nonetheless, the answer still made Hermione froze on the spot because she was pretty sure she knew where the source of the voice was.

Gritting her teeth together, she tried extremely hard to push down her anger before she glanced at the back of the stranger's head. The moment her suspicions were proved correct, the moment she saw Voldemort's  ** _face_**  in the back of the stranger's head, the barricades she had built up to contain her fury broke down into pieces, and words came spilling out of her mouth before she could stop herself.

"You  ** _idiot_**! And to think that you've probably became a bit more intelligent in this timeline, but nooo, you had to go and get yourself some rebounded curses thrown at you—"

"He tried again?" Ginny asked with her eyebrows raised.

"Longbottom this time around, Weaselette," Draco muttered on the side.

"—If you can't get them the first time, it's a bit obvious that it wouldn't the second or the third or how many other times you try it—" Hermione continued to shout.

"Granger, I don't have enough time to listen to your chitter-chatter, so can you shut up and listen," Voldemort said.

"Oh, like you've ever shut up and listen before, which is exactly why you never get anything right. Regardless of  ** _what_**  timeline you're in, you manage to get yourself blown up and get left with—" She gestured at the stranger's body with her hand. "—whatever you consider this to be."

"Granger, I'm going to disappear in a matter of minutes," he said.

Hermione stopped and stared at him in shock.

"Quit lying. You've got your Horcruxes, and that basically makes it impossible—"

"Dumbledore," Voldemort cut in, "and Longbottom destroyed all of them already."

Hermione let out a weak snort. "Whose vault did you hide your Horcrux in this time around?"

"The point is," Voldemort continued as if he hadn't heard what Hermione said, "I need to do something—I need you to do something now."

"I'm not digging up your father's grave," Hermione said loudly.

"I didn't tell you to dig up his grave," Voldemort answered. He then paused, and the stranger took out his wand.

Alarmed, Hermione glanced between the wand and Voldemort. "What, exactly, do you think you're doing?"

He did not answer; instead, he, or rather, the stranger brought the wand down to the middle of his chest before bringing it over his head. Drawing an imaginary circle above his head, he then brought it downwards. At the same time, Hermione started to feel tingling in her hands and feet.

"What—Tom Marvolo Riddle, what in Merlin's name do you think you're doing? Stop it!" she demanded as she tried to reach out and grab the stranger's hand. Nonetheless, she could not move.

She looked over to Harry, Ginny, and Draco and found them frozen on the spot.

"What the hell?" Draco squeaked, horror imprinted on his face.

Suddenly, a flash of light erupted from the end of the stranger's wand. Before Hermione could scream, the light engulfed her, and she felt a familiar tug at her body.

~-0-~

Once the lighting in the room returned to normal, Voldemort opened his eyes. Much to his satisfaction, Hermione was no longer beside him. That meant that the spell worked, which meant that …

"Master," the imbecile he was possessing—Felland—called out shakily.

If Felland were any more intelligent, he would realize that now was not exactly a good time to speak with the Dark Lord. Of course, Lord Voldemort refused to believe that he was defeated by the old coot—the  ** _now dead_**  old coot. Yes, he had managed to kill off Albus Dumbledore, but it was because the old fool had decided to stand in front of Longbottom when Lord Voldemort had been trying to kill the so-called Chosen One. The moment the Killing Curse rebounded on him, he knew something was wrong, and when Longbottom Disapparated with his old diary—his last Horcrux—he knew he didn't have much more time. Never mind when and  ** _how_**  Longbottom learned how to Apparate.

This whole fiasco was just a  ** _minor_**  setback. The fact that he had seen that pendant around Hermione's neck proved that the fates were with him. He was destined to rule the world and get rid of Albus Dumbledore in the end, or else he wouldn't have been given a way to make everything right.

The moment he saw that pendant, he knew it was from Slytherin. The magical signature on it was unquestionable, but little did Hermione know that he had already known  ** _what_**  it was right from the beginning. He had no idea why Hermione needed it and why Slytherin would give her something like that, but that did not matter. What mattered was the fact that he had found a way to go around the spell that prevented Hermione from being sent back into time, and this time, she no longer had a way to block her mind from him. The spell that Felland had cast on Hermione also broke the spell that had been cast on her that prevented his past self from reading her mind.

"Master …" the moron continued to call for him.

"What?" he snapped. It had better be something important, or else Lord Voldemort might have just found his final target before disappearing from this future.

Yes, this future. With Hermione sent back in time, he had no doubts that things would end up differently again, and this time, everything would work out the way he wanted it to.

"The other people that were in here … they're gone!" Felland stuttered.

The other people … Felland could not possibly be talking about Potter, Weasley, and Malfoy. He could not be. Either something suddenly went wrong with his eyes or he must be kidding. If it were the latter, Felland would be very, very sorry when Lord Voldemort was through with him. Just because there was only a few more minutes left before Lord Voldemort evaporated, it did not mean that his followers were allowed to joke with him.

"Felland …"

"They … they were just there … and … and once Hermione Granger disappeared, they did, too," Felland continued.

"Turn around," Voldemort commanded as calmly as he could, completely ignoring the fact that if Potter, Weasley, and Malfoy were still in the room, they would've started yelling and sputtering nonsense at him.

The empty room in front of him proved Felland's words, and Voldemort suddenly felt a dizzy sensation wash through him.

Merlin, they had to be kidding him. If Lord Voldemort had a bit more strength right now, he would've cursed every single object to oblivion at this point. He could not believe that he had forgotten to check if those idiots were wearing the same necklace as Hermione.

However, he could not muster enough energy to be angry any longer; he started to cough and the darkness of unconsciousness started to drift in front of his eyes.

"Master, are you alright?" Felland asked worriedly.

Though this moron was stupid in every sense of the word, he was at least quite trustworthy. Even though Felland could feel the energy slipping out of Lord Voldemort with each passing second, his mind remained loyal to him.

Just then, a crack echoed throughout the room, and from within a funnel of dark clouds, a figure clad in black stepped through. Voldemort took one look at the newcomer—the time traveler—and a smile appeared on his face.

"At least, you—or should I say, ** _I_**  am a bit earlier this time," he whispered before taking his final breath and evaporating into nothingness.

Right in front of Tom Marvolo Riddle's eyes.

~-0-~

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **A/N** : Many thanks to my betas, Marauder's Wolf and Nerys! 


	51. Chapter 51

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **ANNOUNCEMENT (AKA SHAMELESS PIMPING)** : For those of you who are interested in finding out more about the alternate timeline that they had created, I point you to a different "story" under my profile,  **"Somewhere in Time Outtakes."**  That will be where I post snippets, scenes, and other stories not relevant to the main story but might be fun to read. So check it out. ;)
> 
> ~-0-~

**Chapter 51**

The twenty-year-old Tom narrowed his eyes at the man who was now cowering on the floor. This was disturbing, to say the least. He had expected to find his future counterpart the moment he traveled here. He hadn't spent nearly two year mastering the art of time travel to have some idiot shiver and watch some kind of face evaporate. He wanted to know where his witch was. This time, he was taking her back to the past and she was going to stay there. Permanently.

"Where's Lord Voldemort?" he asked the moron on the floor.

The man glanced around quickly before answering, "Who—who are you? What do you want?"

A trace of impatience flashed through Tom's face, but he quickly recomposed himself as he pulled out his wand. "I asked you a simple question and I expect an answer. Where is Lord Voldemort?"

"But—but this is impossible. There's a Taboo on the Dark Lord's name. Even if this room is warded, the Aurors should have been able to Apparate in here."

Tom raised an eyebrow. So … there was a Taboo on his name. It seemed like he was in power then, since even now—well, back in 1947, his followers started to call him "the Dark Lord" instead of his true name. They were not worthy enough for that privilege. Therefore, it would make sense that he was the only one who was allowed to say his name without triggering the Taboo.

However, the imbecile had gone against his wishes and hadn't answered his question.

" _Crucio_." The word slithered out his lips and coiled around its victim, eliciting a scream from the man.

Tom looked on emotionlessly, as if he were merely an onlooker, until he finally broke off the curse.

"I'll say this one more time, and I should warn you that it will be inadvisable to let me repeat this again. When I ask you a question, you will answer without holding anything back. If you do …" A vile smirk appeared on Tom's face. "… the Cruciatus Curse will be the least of your worries."

The man seemed reluctant. Tom considered giving him more "incentive" to talk, even though his refusal to speak proved that he was somewhat loyal and trustworthy. He needed answers, and he would not allow anything to stop him. Perhaps he should give the imbecile one last chance.

Crouching down in front of the man, he tilted his head slightly to one side. "One final chance. Tell me what you know, or you will learn how merciless Lord Voldemort can be."

The man was confused, especially after Tom said the Tabooed name twice, and then some kind of realization passed through his eyes. His face was so easy to read that Tom didn't feel the need to use Legilimency on him: He was most likely wondering how Tom was related to Lord Voldemort. Probably thinking along the lines of father and son.

Tom nearly snorted to himself at that ridiculous notion. He was going to live forever, so he did not need some insignificant pillock inheriting his kingdom, and the notion of having babies for the sake of having babies had always been stupid to him. He did not need radish-headed brat drooling and crying all over him.

Nonetheless, after the man believed Tom to be related to Lord Voldemort somehow, he answered Tom's questions without hesitation. By the end of the questioning session, Tom almost regretted asking. Nonetheless, it also gave him vital information about his future. It appeared that the Lord Voldemort of this time period had sent Hermione back into the past, and the so-called Chosen One, Neville  ** _Longbottom_** , had thwarted him.

This was … unacceptable. Completely, utterly unacceptable. At least Potter's dueling skills were well above average. But a  ** _Longbottom_**. This disgusted Tom to no ends.

He had Horcruxes, and he had made sure to protect each and every one of them with some of the darkest spells possible. It couldn't be possible that Longbottom and Dumbledore had discovered each and every one of them, could it?

"They—they've found—the Dark Lord's—some objects that belonged to the Dark Lord. I don't know what they are, but it seemed important to the Dark Lord," the man—Felland—answered shakily.

It must have been his Horcruxes. Tom felt a surge of anger rush through his body, and he nearly took it out on Felland, but he must not. He still needed information from him.

"And then?" he asked quietly.

He swore he was going to kill every last Longbottom when he went back to 1947. He was going to hunt down every one of them and they would feel the wrath of Lord Voldemort before he ripped them apart.

"I—I'm not—not really sure. The Dark Lord required the use of my body after—after Dumbledore was defeated and Longbottom Disapparated," Felland replied.

He had let a Longbottom Disapparate in front of him. After he had finally gotten rid of that meddlesome old fool, he let a  ** _Longbottom_**  Disapparate. The rage in Tom finally reached a certain point, and pointing his wand towards the table in the center of the room, he blasted it into pieces before turning back towards Felland.

"And Lord Voldemort came here to send Hermione Granger back in time," Tom concluded coldly, his temper somewhat under control though still lurking just beneath the surface.

Felland nodded, despite that he was shaking harder than ever now.

"When and where did Lord Voldemort send her?" Tom asked.

"The—the year 1948, Ger—Germany," Felland answered.

Well, that wasn't too bad. Once he returned to the past, he would only have to wait a year.

Tom scowled upon remembering the fact that the evaporating face had been him.  ** _Him_**  in the future. He had just … disappeared. Like that. Tom closed his eyes and mentally counted to ten. He needed to remain cool-headed if he wanted to win this war. Yes, this was merely a battle that he had lost. His future self had mentioned something about this time … that meant that his future self had known that he would travel into the future because his future self had traveled into the future when  ** _he_**  was younger. However, he had said "this time I am earlier …"

That meant that time had changed once again. It appeared that time could be changed because Hermione and her friends were traveling through time. It was also why Voldemort had chosen to send Hermione through time again—to prevent himself from losing, to give himself a second chance.

He would have to go back to his time. He was sure that the Voldemort of this time period would have thought of a way to break down the walls that were preventing him from using Legilimency and obtain information from the time travelers about Hermione's timeline. He would have to wait the one year and then search for his witch. This time, she wasn't going to hide anything from him anymore. This time, he was going to win. Completely and without failure.

But, first things first.

Tom looked back at Felland and found him uneasy, as if he weren't sure if he should say the next bit or not. Tom's eyes narrowed. The fool would learn it the hard way if he dared, and this time, Lord Voldemort did not plan on using the Cruciatus. There were other ways that could make the Cruciatus seem like a kinder option.

Fortunately, the idiot was not missing his whole brain and decided to tell Tom what he had thought of.

"The Dark Lord—the Dark Lord initially only wanted to send Hermione Granger back. But the other three people who were in the room also got sent back with the spell," he confessed.

Tom felt a sinking feeling in his stomach because he had an eerily good idea who those three people were.

They had to be kidding him.

~-0-~

She was going to kill him.

Hermione Granger swore that one of these days, she was going to murder Tom Marvolo Riddle. Who cared if he were the Dark Lord extraordinaire or the cleverest student to walk through the halls of Hogwarts? If she couldn't defeat him in a wizard's duel, then she would use other methods: poison, curses, assassinations … There had to be a way.

"Tell me we didn't go through time travel. Again," Ginny deadpanned.

Hermione cracked open one of her eyelids. No good. She was staring into a forest—again. Out of all places, he had to send her into  ** _another_** forest.

The difference was, in contrast to the Forbidden Forest they had fallen into when they traveled into the past, this forest was snow covered, much like the one in Germany. From the position of the sun on the sky, Hermione deduced that it was sometime in the morning, perhaps early morning.

She was definitely going to kill him, if Neville or Harry did not get to it first, since neither of them seemed capable of making the death permanent.

"We did," Harry answered her tiredly.

"Someone kill him," Ginny said.

"Easy for you to say, Weaselette. Every time someone kills him, he comes back again. And again. And again. Recall that your boyfriend did kill him in our timeline, but somehow someone sent us back in time to screw it up all over again," Draco's voice sounded from somewhere next to Hermione.

However, like the other times she had gone through time travel, she did not have enough energy to turn around to check.

"Merlin, I'm freezing," Ginny said softly.

Seconds later, Hermione heard the sound of something scraping on the snow, followed by the sounds of Harry's grunting. Mustering her strength, Hermione turned her head around to see what was happening and found that Harry had pushed himself over to where Ginny was and was now hugging her, keeping her warm.

"Thanks," Ginny murmured, grasping his hand weakly with hers.

"Oh great. Who's going to keep  ** _me_**  warm?" Draco complained.

"Well, there is Hermione," Ginny said slowly and gave Hermione a halfhearted wink when she glared at her.

"Do I look like I want to get shredded into pieces?" Draco asked.

"Oh, you don't have to worry. Hermione is such a nice person. She wouldn't shred you to pieces for trying to keep warm," Ginny said wryly.

"Weaselette, stop being daft on purpose. I could already imagine Riddle saying, 'Oh, you're cold?' and then casting the Fiendfyre curse on me," he said, causing Ginny to snort.

Hermione had no idea if it were her imagination or not, but it felt much colder than the last time she had to remain lying in the snow. She hoped it wasn't because now was just not the time for one of them to get injured or sick. Gritting her teeth together, she pulled out her wand and muttered a spell. Immediately, the snow they were lying on melted away, leaving them on top of the grass beneath it.

"Thanks, Granger," Draco said, exhaling a shuddering breath.

"If I die here, I am going to become a ghost and haunt Tom freaking Riddle forever," Ginny muttered.

"I'll join you, Weaselette," Draco murmured.

"Thought you were afraid of Riddle," Ginny mocked.

"Well, if I were a ghost, I wouldn't be any longer now, would I? He can't possibly Cruciate a ghost," Draco reasoned. He then frowned. "Or can he?" He looked at Hermione inquisitively.

"Do I look like Moaning Myrtle?" she asked tiredly.

"No, but you always know the answers," Draco replied.

Hermione sighed and tried out her limbs a bit before answering. "According to Ian Hawnt, objects can go through ghosts because the atoms of ghosts are less condensed, which makes the empty space between each atom large enough for solid objects to be flown through them. Therefore, technically, it is possible to hit ghosts with spells, or else how did you think the basilisk was able to Petrify Sir Nicholas during second year?"

"Yeah, but they can't eat, can they?" Draco pointed out.

"No, unfortunately, they can't," Hermione confirmed.

Then, they fell silent. As they lay there on top of the frostbitten grass, Hermione could not help but wish she had thought to bring her beaded bag with her. She still had a tent, potions, and books inside, just in case she needed to go somewhere on short notice. Unfortunately, she had no idea in advance that she was going to be thrown around the timeline for the entertainment of some idiots, one of whom she was going to murder when she got her hands on him.

The time travel spell must have been an altered version of the one Slytherin had used, since Voldemort did not need any type of potions. However, he had only cast the spell on her. Why did Harry, Ginny, and Draco travel back with her?

After a while, she realized that she could only speculate on the possibilities, since there was no one to tell her the answers, and her current conditions also made it hard for her to think clearly.

Though she had gotten rid of the snow, the occasional drafts were still chilly, and Hermione could sense her feet and hands turning numb. The sunlight that shone through the branches of the trees was hardly enough to make them warm. Finally, she tried her energy again and was thoroughly thankful when she managed to sit up. Flicking her wand rapidly, she cast warming spells over each and every one of them.

Draco let out a relieved sigh. "I could kiss you now, Granger."

"I dare you," Ginny snickered, to which Draco answered with a dirty look.

"We should find out when and where we are first," Hermione said.

"Perhaps we ought to pick a general direction and walk. At least, if we meet someone along the way, we can ask them," Harry suggested.

Hermione nodded her head in agreement, and after a short discussion, they decided to head north, using the Four-Point Spell as their guide.

After a long period of walking, they finally saw some houses in a distance.

"Finally," Draco huffed, thoroughly worn out by the amount of traveling they had done within the last few hours.

Without a second word, they hurried towards the first sight of human development they saw after traveling to this time period. It was not very easy, since even though they could keep themselves warm with magic, the snow was hard to travel through, even with anti-slipping spells on their shoes.

"Remind me to use the Cruciatus on Riddle, too," Ginny muttered as they made their way towards what appeared to be a village.

Draco, in a mocking voice, asked, "Stooping down to the standards of the Death Eaters?"

Ginny snorted. "Just so you've forgotten,  ** _Draco_** , I'm from a family of Death Eaters in the new timeline. You're part of the Order of the Chicken."

They shared a look with one another, and the corners of their lips quivered before the two of them burst out into peals of laughter, which was soon followed by Harry and Hermione. While they were back in the wacky future, they had been so worried about everything happening around them, as well their own well-being. Now that they were somewhere else, it was as if they had just seen, or rather, had been part of some outrageous comedy.

The four of them fell over themselves as they continued to laugh until tears streamed down their faces.

"Oh, this is—this is pathetic—and funny—how—how in the—the world—did we end—end up like this?" Draco asked through his laughter.

It was a bizarre feeling. On the one hand, they found their whole situation ridiculously hilarious, while on the other hand, there was an empty feeling at the pit of their stomachs—Hermione had no idea if the tears were because of the laughing or because of their sadness. The world had turned upside down on them, and the future was going to change again. It was frightening, upsetting, and hilarious all at the same time, not to mention the pressure that came along with the feeling that the future depended on every move they took.

Yet, no matter what they did, they couldn't stop laughing. When they did stop, they would share another look with another and break down into another round of laughter. To an outsider, they might appear as a group of lunatics, but at the current moment, they were beyond caring.

After what seemed like an eternity, they finally calmed down. Sitting down in the snow, they no longer felt the coldness seeping through their clothes to cling onto their skins. As they shared another smile with one another and helped each other up, Hermione knew that somehow, the wall had officially broken, and something had finally clicked between the four of them, connecting them to one another.

~-0-~

The cutting wind made it somewhat hard for them to keep their eyes open, but it was still not difficult for them to realize the strangeness of the town they had arrived in.

The dirt road turned into a paved one once it led into the village. Snow-covered cabins were on either side of the crooked pathway. It gave off the image of being a frozen picture in time; the four time travelers could not see a trace of light coming from any of the houses. The lack of light and moisture absorbed from the precipitation turned the logs of the cabin a dark brown, almost black, color. Snow piled in the lawns and on the steps leading to the door, as if nobody had bothered to clear them away. From where they were, it almost seemed like there weren't any footsteps in the snow on the street.

"This is … the village that we came to last time, isn't it?" Ginny asked Hermione.

Hermione nodded with a frown after taking in the surroundings. This was the place she and Ginny had first met Herr Paulos Meinhardt. It made her somewhat more at ease to know that they were, at least, somewhere where they had been to before. However, it seemed … different. There was something off about the whole thing, but she couldn't put her finger on it.

Additionally, another worry rose in the pit of her stomach. What if they ran into their past selves? They still had no idea what time period Voldemort sent them back to, so this could very well be before they had met Dietfried and Slytherin.

"Why is it so quiet here?" Draco asked with a raised eyebrow.

Now that he had mentioned it, Hermione knew that that was precisely what was wrong with the picture. The last time she had been here with Ginny, the town was not exactly swarming with people, but there had been villagers walking to and fro.

"It's not supposed to be this quiet," Ginny said slowly, alertness working its way into her eyes. "There must be something wrong." She turned towards Hermione. "Do you remember how to get to Meinhardt's house?"

Hermione nodded. "But I doubt we can go there uninvited. Besides, I don't think it's a good idea to look for Meinhardt. Tom killed Dietfried … we have no idea what people would think, since we disappeared right after his death, and we have no idea when we are, so this could possibly be before everything happened. We have to watch out not to run into our past selves. Perhaps we should just ask around for information first, just to be safe."

"Wait … do you think it's even safe to walk through the town like that? We don't even know why it's so quiet, and I don't know about you, but it looks abandoned to me," Draco pointed out.

Biting her lower lip, Hermione nodded again, agreeing with his words. "But still, it doesn't hurt to try and find help. Harry and Ginny can go under the invisibility cloak; the two of us can use Disillusionment Charms. That should at least give us an advantage."

Harry quickly took out his invisibility cloak, and after staring at Hermione for a while, he pulled her off to the side.

"What's the matter, Harry?" she asked, keeping her voice low unconsciously when she noticed the cautious expression on his face.

"Go under the invisibility cloak with Ginny," Harry whispered.

"Harry, it's alright—"

"No, it's not alright," Harry interrupted her. He noticed Draco trying to listen in on their conversation despite Ginny trying to stop him and pulled Hermione a bit farther away. "We don't know why the town's this quiet. There might be spells and wards around it, and we don't know if they can detect the Disillusionment Charms. I can't let you take that risk."

"But—"

"No, Hermione. We don't know what period we're in right now. If we're in the forties, Grindelwald could still be in power, and his agenda was similar to Riddle's … well, the Riddle in the original timeline. I can't let you get into that kind of danger. If there are wards against Disillusionment Charms, at least Malfoy and I are not in as much danger as you are," Harry told her.

Hermione hesitated. It didn't feel right. She didn't want Harry to be in more trouble than he had to be. On the other hand, she knew that he did have a point. He was, after all, considered a half-blood, while she would have been probably executed on sight for being Muggle-born.

"Look, if anything happens to Malfoy and me, at least you have the brains and can probably find some clever way to get us out of it," Harry said.

"You shouldn't be so harsh on yourself, Harry. You did spectacularly against Voldemort," Hermione said.

Harry gave her a smile. "Which is even more of a reason you shouldn't worry about me being caught."

After another moment of hesitation, Hermione knelt down and started searching for rocks.

"What are you doing?" Harry asked.

"I'm—" Hermione started to say before catching sight of Slytherin's necklace that was still hanging around Harry's neck. "Oh! Take the necklace off first."

"What are you doing, Hermione?"

"Never mind me. Just take it off first," she said as she straightened her body up and held out her hand.

After Harry handed her the necklace, she went over to Draco and Ginny and requested for their necklaces. She then took off her own and placed them in the palm of her hand. Muttering the incantation under her breath, she tapped each of the pendants in turn.

"What did you do?" Harry asked as he took his necklace back from Hermione.

"I placed an altered version of the Protean Charm on it. If we get separated, all you have to do is tap on the pendant like this—" She tapped her wand on her necklace. "—and concentrate on the message you want to send."

"Granger, pray tell how are we going to read the messages on something this small?" Draco asked, dangling the pendant in front of her face.

"Hold the pendant in the palm of your hand," Hermione instructed.

With a single eyebrow raised, Draco did as he was told. The moment the cylinder stopped moving in the center of his hand, a foggy white cloud the size of a Quaffle appeared on top of it, and the words "Ferrety ferret, this is how." appeared in red in the middle of the mist.

Ginny and Harry snorted, while Draco rolled his eyes and said, "Oh, very clever, Granger. That ferret joke's getting old."

"Not really," Harry answered with humor twinkling in his eyes.

Giving Harry a dirty look, Draco stuffed the pendant back under his robes while the other three did the same.

"Right then. Harry and Draco should go in front of us, and we'll prod you in the back if you're going the wrong way," Hermione said.

"Do tell me how you're going to see us when we're Disillusioned?" Draco asked.

"We'll concentrate on the footsteps in the snow," Hermione paused. "Well, one of us will, and the other will have to get rid of the footsteps. Don't walk too fast, or we might lose you."

"Does anyone else other than me see how this can go terribly wrong if there is really someone monitoring the activities of this town? It's just a tiny town; did anyone think about why this is happening? What if it's a trap for  ** _us_**?" Draco hissed.

"If you keep hissing like this, Draco, we'll get caught before we take five steps into the town. Now just hush and put the Disillusionment Charm on yourself," Ginny said.

After giving the invisibility cloak to Hermione, Harry pulled out his wand and cast the Disillusionment Charm over himself. Heaving a deep sigh, Draco followed Harry's suit, but not without muttered complaints under his breath.

Keeping as quiet as they could, they started to head towards the village. Much to their surprise, Harry and Draco's Disillusionment Charm remained. Without stopping, they continued over to where the inn was, with Hermione and Ginny giving Harry and Draco an occasional poke whenever they were going the wrong way.

"This is creepy," Ginny said softly.

Hermione had to agree. The last time they were here, though there hadn't been crowds of rowdy people, it still felt cozy and welcoming. Now, it just felt like a ghost town. With the uneasiness crawling up their skin, they finally reached the inn. There were no signs of it being closed, but all the same, it didn't appear opened either.

"I'll go knock," Hermione heard Harry whisper.

She was about to protest when Ginny gave her a look, and at that moment, Hermione realized that Ginny was concerned about the same thing as Harry was. They knew she was in more danger than anyone else if Grindelwald were in power, so she couldn't be the one to knock.

Swallowing the lump in her throat, Hermione watched as Harry reverse the Disillusionment Charm and walk towards the inn. Three heavy knocks were placed on door, and then, they waited.

A few minutes passed, and Harry was about to knock again, when the door opened a crack, and a single, pale blue eye appeared between the gap and stared at Harry.

"Um … hello," Harry said, at a loss of what to say, since he wasn't fluent in German at all. "Can you please help me? I'm sort of lost," he continued, completed with hand movements and such, just in case the person behind the door didn't know English.

The person replied something in German and then closed the door with a click, leaving the four of them standing there. They hadn't seen the expression on the person's face, and the interaction was so brief that they could not determine whether there was animosity present in the person.

"So what now?" Draco asked quietly.

"We wait," Hermione answered, her voice more certain than she really felt.

Somehow, her instincts were screaming for her to run the other way; there was something wrong with this. However, her feet didn't move, stumped there like something was holding her back. She glanced at Ginny from the corner of her eye and found her complexion paler than usual. When they made eye contact, Ginny gave her a worried smile. It seemed like there was something bothering her, too.

"Harry, I think we should—" Hermione was about to whisper when the loud crack of Apparition resounded through the air.

With some difficulty, since they were still under the invisibility cloak, Hermione and Ginny managed to turn around and were more than relieved to find Meinhardt standing there, until they saw that his wand was pointed towards Harry.

"I've never seen you before," Paulos Meinhardt said coldly, a term Hermione had never associated with him before, and that made that bad feeling stir to life again in her.

"I—" Harry started to say.

"You must be one of Albus's students, just like the other two girls," Meinhardt continued to say.

His statement made Hermione realize that this must be after she had met Meinhardt and very possibly after Dietfried's and Slytherin's death. Oh, this was not good.

"Yes, sir, and—" Harry was about to say but was cut off by Meinhardt.

"Where are they?" Meinhardt asked calmly.

There was something very, very wrong with the situation. Hermione did not recall telling Meinhardt that she had traveled with others; he had just seen Ginny and her. The niggling suspicion that Meinhardt thought that they had had a hand in Dietfried's death began to grow in Hermione's mind.

That made Hermione almost want to just grab Harry and Apparate away, but to where? She had no idea. Additionally, the curious side of her egged her on, wanting to find out precisely what happened.

Harry stared at him for a moment, and Hermione almost thought he was going to tell him. "Who?"

"The two girls," Meinhardt answered.

Harry paused, his eyes alert. "I've gotten separated from them."

"Did you?" Meinhardt asked, his youthful face a blank façade.

Without warning, he suddenly attacked, but Harry seemed to have been prepared, since the second a spell left Meinhardt's wand, Harry had already put up a Shield Charm. Upon seeing this, Meinhardt said something in German—Hermione presumed that he was cursing.

Ginny grabbed onto a part of the invisibility cloak, ready to throw it off and help Harry if need be. Hermione couldn't see where Draco was, but she was sure that he was somewhere he deemed safe.

Harry seemed like he wanted to say something a couple of times, but his words were always cut off when Meinhardt sent another couple of curses towards him. In the end, Harry was forced to fire back a couple of his own spells instead of just dodging. Red clashed with purple, and brown clashed with pink; yet, neither side seemed able to gain an upper hand.

" _Avada Kedavra_!" Meinhardt cast, causing Ginny to release an angry growl and Hermione's eyes to widen in fear.

Thankfully, Harry jumped to the side, avoiding the spell by milliseconds.

The invisibility cloak was off Ginny the next instant, and she, too, fired a number of non-verbal spells towards Meinhardt.

A derisive sound left Meinhardt when he saw Ginny, and Hermione knew that whatever they said would become a lie in Meinhardt's ears after this. By now, Hermione was even more certain that he was attacking them because of Dietfried's death, but under current conditions, she had no idea how to explain things to him.

Gritting her teeth together, Hermione pulled off the invisibility cloak, too, and slowly maneuvered towards Harry's side while throwing spells of her own towards Meinhardt.

"What's his problem?" she heard Draco's voice somewhere behind her.

As she had thought, he was well out of harm's way.

"He thinks that we have something to do with Dietfried's death, I presume," Hermione answered, all the while concentrating on casting less harmful spells at Meinhardt and blocking off the spells that were shot towards them.

"Tell him it's not us," said Draco.

"Does it look like he's going to listen?" Harry asked.

"Then someone Stun him first," Draco suggested.

"That's what we've been trying to do, and it would help if you at least try to help us," Ginny said angrily.

The sound of multiple Apparitions rent the air, just when spells from Meinhardt, Ginny, Harry, and Hermione clashed right in the middle and shot up into the air like fireworks.

Six wizards in black robes appeared a small distance away from Meinhardt with their wands extended and shouted something in German. Hermione presumed that it was something along the lines of telling them to cease fire or drop their wands. However, she gripped even harder on her wand, hoping that these people were not on Meinhardt's side.

"Oh shit," Draco muttered as Meinhardt replied something back to them in German.

Adrenaline pumped through Hermione's body. She knew they were outnumbered, and even though Draco was still under a Disillusionment Charm, the outcome was not guaranteed; they could still be easily overpowered if the six wizards dueled as well as Meinhardt. Then, her eyes were caught by a small symbol stitched on each and every one of the newcomers' robes. She felt her heartbeat increase as she stared at the triangle enclosing a circle and a vertical line, straight down its middle.

"The Deathly Hallows," Harry said hoarsely.

"Wait, what?" Draco asked.

"The sign … the Deathly Hallows. They're Grindelwald's people," Harry said hurriedly, the grip on his wand tightening as he kept his eyes on Meinhardt and the wizards, who were now conversing rapidly.

Hermione was not alarmed now; she was downright terrified. She recalled clearly that Meinhardt had called Grindelwald "Gellert," and unlike Dietfried, he had not expressed any dislike towards the dark wizard while he had been conversing with Hermione and Ginny. Though Meinhardt was a friend of Dumbledore's, she was positive that he was also a friend of Grindelwald's.

Suddenly, a strangled noise left Draco's throat, and Hermione felt someone tug her robe.

"We—no,  ** _you_**  have to get out of here as soon as possible," he said as frantically as he was tugging her robe. "Come on!"

"What?" Hermione asked, looking around.

"They know you're a Mudblood,  ** _now get out of here_**!" Draco exclaimed.

And then, the pressure on her robes was gone, and Hermione knew that Draco had started escaping already. Without allowing herself to think any further, she turned around and blindly started to run in the direction they had come from with Harry and Ginny following closely behind her.

A cacophony of yells erupted from Grindelwald's followers and Meinhardt, and several spells flew over their heads as they ran for their lives. Despite the spells that Harry, Ginny, and Hermione would throw backwards to stall them, the distance steadily decreased, and Hermione knew that it was a matter of time before they were caught. She felt her heart at her throat as the wheels of her mind turned as quickly as they could.

"Draco!" she shouted.

"Ahead of you!" Draco yelled back, slightly out of breath, somewhere ahead of her.

"Grab onto me!"

For a short moment, there was no answer, but then, from somewhere beside her, she heard him pant as he got a hold of her robes, "If I die from this, I'm going to haunt you for life."

Biting hard into the inside of her cheek, Hermione turned around and flicked her wand towards their pursuers. The snow rose up and formed a wall of ice, blocking the attacks and attackers, while Hermione grabbed both Harry and Ginny and turned on the spot.

~-0-~

The four of them crumpled onto the floor the moment they landed, breathing heavily.

"Merlin's pants," Draco panted. "Remind me to never join the three of you on an adventure in the future."

Hermione turned around and slapped Draco on the arm.

"Oye, ow! What was that for?" Draco demanded, rubbing the spot she slapped.

"For calling me a Mudblood," she said.

"You never cared when we were back at school," Draco pointed out, his face still scrunched up in pain.

"That was because we weren't friends then," Hermione answered, and an uncomfortable look appeared on Draco's face. She narrowed her eyes at him. "Or are you saying that we aren't friends?"

"Oh, don't be ridiculous, Granger," Draco said. He shifted his body around as if bothered. "It's just … well … Father would kill me if … if he knew you're considering us friends."

Hermione raised her eyebrows. "Oh, so it's  ** _only_**  me considering us friends?"

Draco's cheeks turned pink. "You're not going to make me say it out loud now, are you?"

She threw him a good-natured glare and paused. "I thought you didn't know German. How did you know they knew I was Muggle-born."

"I don't know German," Draco answered. "But I heard one of them say 'Schlammblut,' which means … er … Mudblood in German."

"And of course, you know how to say it in every language," Ginny said dryly.

"Very funny, Weaselette. Father almost sent me to Durmstrang before, so …"

"So of course, basic lessons in German always include how to say 'Mudblood,'" Harry finished for him.

Irritated, Draco glared at each one of them in turn. "So now all three of you are ganging up against me for knowing a word? At least it saved her from those Grindelwald's followers."

Hermione, Ginny, and Harry stared at him for a moment before allowing looks of amusement to appear on their faces.

"We're just teasing you," Hermione reassured him. "Thanks."

Draco's face turned even redder. "Well … if one of you died, that means I might be in even more danger."

Hermione knew that he wasn't being truthful. However, she knew better than to tease him even more about this subject.

"But how did they know Hermione was Muggle-born? It's not as if there's some kind of mark on her," Harry brought up.

Draco shrugged.

"But your parents were always against Muggle-borns, so if there were ways, you would've known," Ginny said.

Draco rolled his eyes. "Weaselette, do you really believe that there's a way to detect it? Riddle didn't know Hermione was a Muggle-born either."

"Then how did Grindelwald's followers know?" Harry asked with a frown.

Hermione shook her head. "I have no idea. Although the basilisk did have the ability to sniff out Muggle-borns. Perhaps there are some other ways to train animals to do that or other kinds of spells and curses …"

She trailed off as she secretly vowed to research more about this when she got her hands on books.

"Oh no," Draco suddenly said, catching their attention, as he gazed around wildly. "Oh no … oh no, no, no …"

"What's the matter?" Hermione asked, placing a hand on his shoulder.

"You're joking. Out of all places, you Apparated us to Slytherin's old cottage? As if being trapped in there for three days were not enough?" Draco asked, horrified.

Indeed, they were now in the cabin they had stayed in while they were captured by Slytherin. It seemed like some time had passed since he had died, since on the floor and furniture was a layer of dust as well as other debris, such as pebbles, dry leaves and grass, and dead bodies of insects.

"It was the first place that came to my mind. We can't possibly Apparate to Dietfried's house," replied Hermione.

"But still … Slytherin's house … oh Merlin, I can still taste the white bread on the tip of my tongue," Draco groaned, causing Harry and Ginny to snort.

"At least we don't have to worry about Slytherin anymore, since Riddle took care of him already," Harry said.

"Yeah, your favorite professor," Draco scoffed.

Harry picked up a strand of dry grass and threw it at him.

"What are we going to do?" Ginny asked Hermione as the two boys started a childish debris-throwing combat on the side. "Meinhardt seemed sure that we had something to do with Dietfried's death, and we still don't know what year it is."

Hermione took a deep breath as her forehead wrinkled in thought. "Not to mention that we still need to find a way back to England to look for Dumbledore. If Grindelwald's in power, that's not going to be easy." She paused. "Riddle got the Elder Wand in 1950."

Draco and Harry stopped in their actions and stared at Hermione.

"How do you know?" Harry asked slowly.

Hermione let out a sigh of impatience. "Voldemort was known to have defeated Grindelwald in 1950 in the … in the wacky timeline we just left. If he had defeated Grindelwald, that means that the Elder Wand must have fallen into his hands, too."

"But he wasn't using the Elder Wand when we were in the wacky future," Harry pointed out. "Ginny and I dueled with him, and he was still using his yew wand."

The wheels of Hermione's mind turned. "He used both of them. As the Dark Lord, he used the Elder Wand, and as Professor Riddle, he used the yew wand."

"But he was Snakeface that day. Why didn't he just use the Elder Wand?" Harry asked.

"I …" Hermione frowned and thought about it for a while. Then, it alighted on her. "He didn't know who the true master of the Elder Wand was!"

Harry, Draco, and Ginny stared at her.

"But he doesn't know that Harry had become the master of the Elder Wand in our original timeline. We hadn't given him that information," Ginny pointed out.

Hermione shifted herself to a more comfortable position. "Well, you see, he knows that there's something strange with his and Harry's wands. He knows that we came from a different timeline, and somehow, we knew that the Elder Wand is the only wand that can defeat Harry's wand. Therefore, it wouldn't be too farfetched for him to assume that Harry might've become the master in our timeline."

"But he doesn't know for sure," Ginny pointed out.

"But neither does he want to take the risk," Hermione answered. "With two masters of the wand, he wouldn't want to lose the wand to Harry."

"So … if Grindelwald is in power right now, it means that neither Riddle nor Dumbledore has defeated him yet," Harry concluded.

Hermione nodded. Taking a deep breath, she looked at her friends. "Now, the only thing we have to decide is if we want the wacky future to come into pass."

"What?" Harry, Ginny, and Draco asked in unison, staring at her with identical looks of shock.

Hermione did not seem to notice it and continued to say, "If we want that wacky future, then we basically just have to stay out of trouble, perhaps find a place where nobody knows us and live out the rest of our lives. But if we don't want it to—"

"Wait," Draco cut into her monologue. "Just wait a minute, Granger. I thought  ** _you_**  were completely against changing time."

"That was when I wasn't sure about what would happen if we did something that changed the future," Hermione answered. "But now, we know that the future is malleable. It can be changed, and … to be honest, I don't really think the wacky future is a fair one, even though Voldemort was fighting for the rights of Muggle-borns instead of killing them off. The rules and regulations he had passed to restrict pure-bloods are insane. It's … not right. There has to be some way to make it equal for everyone and lower the amount of damage and casualties."

An appreciative look flashed through Draco's eyes. "Thanks, Granger."

Harry and Ginny remained quiet for a moment.

"Then what should we do now? Get to the Elder Wand first?" Ginny asked, a mischievous smile slowly appearing at the corner of her lips.

"You do know that that means we're officially fighting against Riddle … again, don't you?" Draco asked with uncertainty.

"Scared, Draco?" Harry asked with a challenging smile.

"You wish," Draco muttered. In a slightly louder voice, he said, "I was thinking … you know … he's Granger's boyfriend and everything."

Hermione's cheeks turned bright red when Harry and Ginny shot her glances. "That doesn't mean that I support what he's going to do."

"Yeah, well, that wasn't what you thought in the wacky timeline," said Draco.

"That wasn't me," Hermione quickly said.

Nonetheless, as she spoke, various random memories of what happened in the wacky timeline popped up in her mind, and she had a hard time trying to bat them away.

"I agree," Ginny said firmly. "That wasn't us."

Harry scratched the back of his head. "Yeah … but … I can still feel some of the emotions that were associated with the memories, even when I think about it now. It's as if I was really there."

"Be quiet, Harry. It's not us," Ginny growled.

All four of them fell silent for a moment as they tried to recompose their thoughts as well as their emotions. Hermione realized that this must be far worse for Harry and Ginny than it was for her. It must be mind-boggling as well as disturbing that their parents were faithful followers to the Dark Lord, especially with the things that had happened to Harry and Ginny because of Lord Voldemort in the original timeline.

"So … we have an agreement then?" Hermione broke the silence.

"Wait, isn't there some other way to do this without going against Riddle?" Draco asked, a fearful expression on his face.

"I never knew you liked Riddle that much," Ginny said wryly.

"Weaselette, we're talking about  ** _Riddle_**  here, the future Dark Lord. I would feel much safer if we could change the future without attracting his attention," he said.

"It would be easier to change the future for the better of pure-bloods, half-bloods, Muggle-borns, and Muggles if the person we were talking to was Dumbledore," Harry said firmly. "It's harder to talk sense into Riddle—sorry, Hermione."

Hermione shook her head. "No, you're right. The world would be much safer if the Elder Wand wasn't in Riddle's hands."

"So we're really doing this? You—but have the three of you even thought about the whole thing? And what might happen if Riddle finds out?" asked Draco.

"He might make you into a ferret pie?" Ginny suggested.

"This isn't time for joking, Weaselette. It's not only Riddle I'm worried about. Have you thought about who has the Elder Wand right now? It's Grindelwald, and the only people who had—has—would have—" Draco threw up his hands in frustration. "—whatever the right tense of this should be! Dumbledore and Riddle are the only ones who have a shot at defeating him."

"Well, Harry did defeat Voldemort in our timeline, and he fought against Dumbledore in the wacky timeline," Hermione pointed out.

"Yes, but he did that alongside Riddle in the wacky timeline, and he had a lot of help from other people in the original timeline," said Draco.

"And there's four of us now," Hermione reminded him. Her face softened, and she placed a hand on his shoulder. "I know you're scared, Draco, but … we have to do our parts … we're doing this for our parents and our own futures."

"But … but there must be some other way," he said. "Perhaps we can look for Sparkly Eyes. He defeated Grindelwald in our original timeline."

"But we can't Apparate out of Germany right now. International Apparition is strictly forbidden unless we get permission, and with the government right now, we're stuck," Hermione explained, "and I wouldn't be surprised if all owls were read before they reached their recipients."

Draco fell silent, and after a while, he started running his hands through his hair. "Oh Salazar, this is crazy. This is completely insane."

Harry looked at Ginny, who seemed deep in thought. When she glanced up at him, he took her hand into his own.

"We can make this right. Though the ones we loved were still alive in the wacky timeline, Neville's the one who's taking the brunt of the blow, which is unfair," Harry said. He gave her a smile. "We'll make sure that everything works out fine for everyone."

Ginny returned his smile and gave him a nod. Hermione then realized that she must have been worried that changing the timeline would mean that Fred might once again get killed. With the future now ambiguous, anything was possible, and Hermione secretly vowed to herself that she would keep everyone safe.

"It's bound to be difficult," she said, gazing at each and every one of them before maintaining eye contact with Draco, "but we can do this. I know we can."

~-0-~

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **A/N** : So ... if you're interested in what some of the four time travelers' "memories" could be, I point you to "Somewhere in Time Outtakes," also found under my profile.
> 
> Many thanks to MaraudersWolf and Nerys for beta-ing this chapter!


	52. Chapter 52

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Credits** : I've used a line from an episode of Doctor Who written by Steven Moffat, so kudos to him.

**Chapter 52**

The four time travelers soon realized that defeating Grindelwald and getting the Elder Wand were easier said than done. For one thing, they had no idea how to find Grindelwald.

"Why don't we just let Grindelwald's followers capture us and let them bring us to him?" Draco asked sarcastically one day.

His question was met with glares from the Gryffindors, and he quickly learned to just sit on the side and listen rather than make suggestions. Nonetheless, the snide remarks could not be easily controlled. Therefore, it wasn't strange for the discussions to turn into childish fights—verbal and, sometimes, physical—between Draco and Harry. More often than not, Ginny and Hermione were the only ones who were seriously trying to develop plans.

"The easiest way will probably be to follow Riddle's footsteps. You said that he defeated Grindelwald in 1950, so if we are able to find out where he is, we would eventually find Grindelwald, too," Ginny said, ignoring the two boys who were now using chairs as barricades and pebbles and dry grass as ammunition.

It was disconcerting, to say the least, when they had found out that they had landed in February of the year 1950. Draco had been most disgusted when Hermione Summoned the German newspaper from the dustbin next to one of the houses. It gave them an idea about when they were, though it did not make them feel any easier. After all, 1950 was the year that marked the start of Tom's progressive rise to power and also the year in which he had gotten the Elder Wand from Grindelwald.

"Yes, but we have to get to it before him. If we go to Grindelwald when Riddle does, we risk letting him know who got the Elder Wand. That's the last thing we want because I'm certain he's going to try to get it from us afterwards," Hermione said.

"Good point." Ginny nodded. A frown appeared on her forehead. "But that means we've reached dead ends. How else can we find Grindelwald?"

Hermione's eyebrows furrowed in thought. "The worst thing is that this timeline is completely different from the original one, so we have no idea where Grindelwald should be now." She let out a cry of frustration. "Ugh, this is going to be difficult."

Ginny clasped her hand on Hermione's shoulder. "Don't worry. We'll work out something eventually. Perhaps we should start from the beginning again and look through the options. Maybe we'll get some other ideas from them."

It wasn't until nearly a week later before they actually encountered a new spark of chance to their plans. None of them were fluent in German, and the villagers, in general, seemed antagonistic towards foreigners. It would have been both stupid and dangerous to attempt to buy food from the people living there, especially when the closest town to Slytherin's cabin was the town Dietfried had lived in.

"I'm betting that Ernsta would be more than happy to spread the story that we were the ones who killed her husband," Ginny commented when Hermione brought that up.

Since they were in the middle of a snow-covered forest, meals became one of the hardest things to get taken care of. They ended up "borrowing" food from the villagers with much help from Harry's invisibility cloak. Hermione initially insisted on leaving some Galleons on the tables of whomever they've taken food from.

"It's only right that we give them something in return for providing us with food," she said.

"Yes, but wouldn't that let Grindelwald and his people know that we're here?" Draco asked. "And I doubt the villagers here use Galleons, Sickles, and Knuts. They probably have their own type of gold, and the innkeeper only took your gold last time because wizarding bars and inns never have a problem with gold as long as it’s legitimate money."

In the end, though it made her feel bad, Hermione had to agree to his points.

They usually went during the night, so that it would be easier for them to hide and then Apparate back to Slytherin's cabin. As a precaution method, they also went in pairs.

Today, it was Harry and Draco's turn. Hermione had initially protested against it, since they seemed to be constantly in some kind of banter with one another. However, both of them promised to keep their snarky comments and wands out of sight until they returned to the cabin. Hermione had no idea what took over her and made her agree, since the moment they disappeared under the cloak and went out the door, she started to feel anxious about it.

"Don't worry about them. Both of them had gone through the war against Voldemort, and after all these insane adventures, they've learned to be somewhat cooperative with one another," Ginny reassured her.

Nonetheless, after one hour later and still no sign of them, Hermione became even more worried. Even a frown had made it onto Ginny's face.

"They're probably just being cautious, and it snowed last night again, so it's probably harder to make it back here," Ginny murmured.

Hermione desperately hoped that that was the case, and both she and Ginny let out sighs of relief when they saw the boys run through the door, panting.

"What took you so long? Where did you go?" Ginny asked as she rushed over to Harry and helped relieve him of the sachets of food in his hands.

"Grindelwald … I've heard them … them speaking his name," Harry said, out of breath, as Hermione went over to help Draco with his bags.

The two girls shared a look before Hermione said, "But it's not all that strange, is it? I mean, he was at the height of his power before he was defeated in both the original and the wacky timeline. It couldn't be so weird to hear his name being spoken amongst the villagers."

"Yes, but we've … we've heard people talking about … You-Know-Who," Draco panted.

Hermione's eyes widened and she stared at them. "What?"

"Voldemort, they were saying something about Voldemort in the village," Harry replied, his breathing slowly returning to its normal rate.

"No …how is that possible? He shouldn't be here," Hermione said.

"Yeah, but you said that he defeated Grindelwald in 1950 in the wacky timeline, didn't you?" Draco pointed out.

"Yes, but …" Hermione trailed off in her words.

How could Tom be here now? How could he be here? She knew that Tom must have sent them to someplace where he could find her easily, but time travel was never accurate, or else she most likely wouldn't have been stranded in the middle of a forest when she arrived back into the past. If Tom were here, in Germany, right now, that meant …

"We can't possibly be at the brink of when Tom gets the Elder Wand, can we?" she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

Draco, Harry, and Ginny gazed at her, frozen on their spots.

"Don't you remember when he'd gotten the wand?" Ginny asked.

Hermione shook her head. "The books I've read only gave a general overview of what happened because …" She paused and took a deep sigh. "... because everyone who had witnessed what happened died, except for Tom."

"And I doubt he's going to tell the whole world about how he'd won," Draco said.

Harry raised an eyebrow. "Why not? If he had killed me during the battle at Hogwarts, he probably would've arranged something like an interview with  _The Daily Prophet_."

"That's not funny, Harry," Ginny lightly chided, though the corners of her lips quivered with amusement.

The thought of Lord Voldemort sitting down and answering questions to a news reporter was both disturbing and funny, and Hermione had a hard time holding back laughter.

After a light chuckle left her lips, she cleared her throat before saying, "I think Draco's right. We don't know what happened during their battle, and there might be some things he wouldn't want outsiders knowing. For example, he could've tortured Grindelwald for information about the Elder Wand and the Hallows, which would give him a reason to kill all witnesses. He wouldn't want other people knowing that information, too."

An uncomfortable feeling settled at the pit of her stomach at the thought of all of the people who died on that day. It was also unnerving to know that her counterpart in the wacky future admired someone like Lord Voldemort. Well, yes, she herself did fall for Tom Riddle in the forties. However, she still knew right from wrong, and if Tom were to do something that was immoral, she still wouldn't approve of it. Hermione had a feeling that the other her would've thought of ways to explain away every single evil thing Voldemort had done and would do. That, in and of itself, made her feel ill.

"So what should we do now?" Ginny asked, tilting her head to one side and her face thoughtful.

Hermione and Harry shared a look with one another. Perhaps it was the years of fighting against Voldemort together, Hermione had the feeling that Harry was thinking along the same lines she was. Therefore, she gave him a nod to which he answered with a smile.

"We go into town tonight, under the invisibility cloak and Disillusionment Charms," Harry said.

Draco's mouth dropped open, and he started to protest vehemently, telling them the cons of doing such a thing. However, the three of them had mutually decided to shut his words out.

"What if we get caught by Grindelwald's followers? Have you even read about what they did to people while Grindelwald was in power?" Draco continued to say while they sat down on the floor and took out the food they had brought back.

"I'm sure it's a lot worse than what the Death Eaters and You-Know-Who did in the original timeline," Ginny said wryly.

That shut Draco up for a while, but not for long. Soon, he started giving them other suggestions, ranging anything from looking for Dumbledore first to hexing Riddle in the back after he got the Elder Wand.

"Potter here can do it. I mean, he already killed Riddle in our original timeline, so he has the highest chance of succeeding," Draco said.

Harry, Ginny, and Hermione pretended to not hear a thing he said, and once they were finished eating, they started to get ready for their self-given mission.

"Are we really sure we want to do this?" Draco asked as Harry stuffed his invisibility cloak into one of the sachets Hermione had Transfigured from pebbles.

"I think we might need to take some of the leftovers, too, just in case," Harry suggested.

Hermione nodded before she answered Draco, "It's our only chance of finding Grindelwald."

"But how do we know if they're going to be there tonight? The villagers could be just talking about them, and since all of them speak in German, we wouldn't know what they were talking about," Draco pointed out.

Hermione smiled grimly as she stuffed her bag with a bottle of water and some leftovers. "I have just the plan."

"What kind of plan?" For some reason, Draco seemed even more afraid now.

Hermione took a deep breath and started explaining. "Everyone speaks German in that village, and none of us speaks that language."

"That's what I was trying to tell you for the whole time," Draco said, throwing his hands up in frustration.

"But you're forgetting about one person. There is one person in that village whom we know definitely speaks English," Hermione said with a triumphant smile.

"What? Oh …" A look of realization dawned on Draco's face. Then, he frantically asked, "Wait. You're thinking about ..."

Hermione's grin grew bigger and her eyes twinkled with merriment. "Yes, Draco. We are paying Ernsta Kaufmann a visit."

~-0-~

Hermione knew that if Draco had any other choice, he would not have gone with them tonight. As it was, the three of them were the only people he could trust. After all, he did not have the security of the Malfoy's vault in this time period, and they were all stranded in Germany. He was not exactly in the position to run off on his own. Nonetheless, he would've chosen to stay back in Slytherin's hut if Hermione hadn't "kindly" reminded him that no one was staying with him, and if Grindelwald's people were to find him there, he would have to fend for himself.

Both Hermione and Draco knew that the chance of that happening was infinitesimally small. However, she knew that he wouldn't want to take that chance, and she was proven right when minutes later, he placed a Disillusionment Charm on himself while muttering under his breath ways their plan could go wrong.

"You know, if you jinx us again, Draco, I will torture and kill you before Grindelwald does," Ginny said as she disappeared under the invisibility cloak with Hermione, "and trust me when I say that the new timeline had given me a lot more education and experience with torture spells."

Hermione could almost imagine him gulp and turn pale from Ginny's threat, but since he was currently Disillusioned, she could only sense his discomfort from his decision to cease talking.

"Our mission is to get to Dietfried's house," Harry's voice said from somewhere next to Ginny. "Once we're there, we'll send a message with Slytherin's pendant. Hermione and Ginny, the two of you have to be the ones to check, since you're under the invisibility cloak. When you get the message from both of us that we're in the house, place Silencing Charms over the house."

"Okay," Hermione and Ginny murmured.

With that, they set off into the dark with Hermione and Ginny staying behind to get rid of any and all footsteps in the snow, just in case. The three Gryffindors didn't worry too much about Draco running off on his own for the same reason why he had decided to go with them in the end. Thankfully, like the town Meinhardt lived in, this town had not set up wards against Disillusionment Charms either.

When Dietfried's cottage came into view, Hermione suddenly remembered that they had forgotten to talk about the possibility of protective wards around Dietfried's house. Yet, she did not dare to whisper something to Harry, in fear that there might be spies around the village. However, it appeared that her worries were unfounded because the moment they reached their destination, a barely noticeable flash of light hit the door, and Hermione could tell that it was Harry testing for wards.

At that moment, Slytherin's pendant turned hot against her skin, and Hermione and Ginny pulled out their necklaces. Placing it on their palms, the same message appeared in Harry's scrawl:  _Meet in the shed_.

Quietly, Hermione and Ginny maneuvered towards the back of the house where the shed stood. Once they were inside, Hermione quickly took out her wand, slipped it underneath the edge of the cloak, and flicked a few spells around, making sure that there was no one else inside. Once she saw that the only ones who had appeared were Draco and Harry, she pulled the invisibility cloak off herself and Ginny.

Harry quickly took out his wand and placed Silencing Charms around the shed.

"What's the matter, Harry?" Ginny asked.

"We don't know if there's someone else in the house," Harry pointed out. "If we just walk in there and if there's other people in there …"

Hermione nodded, her forehead creasing into a frown.

"So what are we going to do?" Ginny asked.

"How about we just … go back to the cabin and think it over some more? Perhaps we can think of a better plan," Draco suggested.

"No," Hermione said determinedly. "We have to get in there and get answers from Ernsta tonight." Rolling the wand between her fingers once, she then looked at them again. "Stay here for a moment."

Without waiting for them to speak, Hermione pulled the invisibility cloak over herself and walked out of the shed. Taking care to cover her footsteps along the way, she kept going until she was in front of the house again. She took a deep breath before she pointed her wand at the front door.

" _Expulso_ ," she cast, her voice hardly louder than the sound of the winds howling through the trees.

However, the force of the spell was the direct opposite of that. The spell rushed towards the wooden door and blasted it into pieces and caused the walls of the cabin to shake. She could hear a frightened scream erupt from somewhere inside the second floor of the house. Moments later, a barely-dressed young man around the age of twenty appeared at the doorway with Ernsta. A satisfied smile appeared on Hermione's face; she was positive that there were only two people in the cabin now.

Several neighbors peered out from the windows to see what had happened. A couple of them, upon seeing Ernsta and the young man, pulled their draperies together with disgusted expressions. Hermione assumed that it was because of the "scandalous affair" the woman was having.

Ernsta's frantic eyes peered into the dark, trying to find what had caused nearly the whole front side of the house to collapse. She then spoke rapidly to the young man. Hermione could not understand what she was saying, nor did she care. She just needed the bloody woman to get back into the house again. After what seemed like ages, Ernsta finally waved her wand at the broken pieces of the door and slammed the door shut behind her and her lover.

"What did you do?" was the first thing Ginny asked when Hermione reentered the shed and took off the invisibility cloak.

"Just checking to see who else in the house," Hermione answered. "Apparently, there are only two people in there, so we don't have to worry."

"Two people?" Ginny asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Ernsta Kaufmann and her lover," Hermione replied, her lips curving upwards into a smile.

Ginny snorted. "Let me guess, a young wizard?"

"Right on the money," Hermione answered.

"Dietfried would turn in his grave," Ginny said, rolling her eyes. "You would think that she would be a bit more inconspicuous."

"I don't think that's possible for her," Hermione said wryly. "Let's go."

The four of them, with Harry and Draco under the Disillusionment Charm again and Hermione and Ginny under the invisibility cloak, slowly made their way to the back door that they knew led directly to the kitchen. Once they were in, Hermione and Ginny quickly placed wards and Silencing Charms around the house. As a precaution, they also added a ward on the fireplace, in case someone was to Floo in from somewhere else, before Hermione put away the invisibility cloak and Harry took the Disillusionment Charm off himself.

"Just for precautionary reasons," Draco said, though the three Gryffindors were positive that there were other reasons for him to keep the Charm on.

They quietly but quickly made their way up the stairs. Hermione glanced at the other three—or rather, Ginny, Harry, and where Draco should be standing—and after a nod, she threw open the door and found the occupants both in the bed. Before Ernsta or the young man had the chance to scream, Harry had already Stunned the young man and Ginny had already magicked their wands into her hands.

Ernsta's frightened eyes glanced at Harry before landing on the two girls. If possible, she appeared even more scared.

"Wha—what are you doing here?" she squeaked, pulling the blanket up to her chin. "I wasn't—I wasn't the one who ordered for your arrest! Paulos—Paulos Meinhardt decided that my husband's death must have—have something to do with you!"

Hermione raised her eyebrows at the woman, suddenly understanding why Tom got such a kick out of scaring people. It really gave one a giddy feeling when the person in question was such an annoying witch.

"Oh? So you are saying that you have nothing at all to do with the rumors being spread around the village?" Hermione asked, plastering a fake smile on her face.

Ernsta stared at her before gulping. "I—I—"

Hermione's eyes narrowed. "And don't give me the rubbish that you had nothing at all to do with Dietfried's death. We all know that you must have had something to do with it."

Ernsta's eyes widened, and she gaped at Hermione before her face turned ash-grey. "Wha—what are—are you talking about?" Ernsta asked shakily.

Hermione rolled her eyes. "As if I would be so stupid as to not know that Dietfried's death was what you and Tom were discussing. You'd forgotten to act angry at us when we barged into this room. Any normal person would've suspected that we'd had something to do with Dietfried's death, except someone who was in on the plan."

Ernsta seemed to have noticed her mistake, and her eyes widened. "I—I just—just thought that—that it was impossible—since—since you were clearly—clearly nice to Dietfried—"

"Oh, stop talking rubbish. The greatest benefactors from his death are you and Tom," Hermione said, though she had no idea what Tom was getting out of this. She just knew that he wouldn't kill a person for no reason at all. "And you clearly didn't marry Dietfried for his looks."

Hermione cast a condescending glance towards the young man who was Stunned on the bed next to Ernsta.

"What did Tom get out of this?" Hermione questioned her.

Ernsta stared at her for a moment before she opened her mouth. "I—I—"

" ** _Don't_**  even think about lying to me, Ernsta," Hermione warned, her eyes narrowing into mere slits.

"I—I really don't know. He just asked for a locked box that was inside my room—"

" ** _Your room_**?" Hermione screeched. " ** _Why_**  was he in  ** _your_**  room?"

"He—he wasn't in there—he—he somehow—knew that—that—there's a strange—locked b-box in—in my room—I don't—don't even know what's—what's inside it—b-but he seems interested in—in it," Ernsta stuttered.

Hermione stared at her until she was sure that the older witch wasn't lying. It seemed like she could only find out the answer from Tom.

"Very well then," she said. She tapped her wand slowly on the palm of her hand and eyed Ernsta for a moment before she took out the bottle of water she had packed and threw it onto the bed. "Drink it."

Ernsta stared at the bottle with a frown before glancing back at Hermione.

"Do I need to repeat myself? Or do I need to give you some incentives to follow my directions?" Hermione asked casually and pointing her wand towards the woman.

Without hesitating, Ernsta shakily reached out and picked up the bottle. She gazed at it before looking back at Hermione. "Why should I fear for any tortures if you are going to kill me?"

"I didn't say I was going to kill you," Hermione replied. "As long as you do as I say, I do not plan on letting you die tonight." She tilted her head. "And might I remind you that I do not plan on standing here the entire night."

Suddenly, someone tugged her sleeve, and Draco's voice sounded next to her. "Um … Granger?"

"Not now, Draco. I'm busy," Hermione replied softly, keeping her eyes firmly on Ernsta as the woman took a tentative drink out of the bottle.

"You don't understand though …"

"Not now, Draco. Later," she repeated herself.

"What do you want?" Ernsta asked, still eyeing the bottle warily every now and then.

"I want you to answer all my questions truthfully. And without delay if you do not want the poison to travel throughout your body. I'm afraid that by then, an antidote wouldn't help you," Hermione answered.

Ernsta immediately jumped up from the bed with the blanket still clutched to her chest and shouted, "You said you weren't going to kill me!"

She immediately tried to force the water out of her body but to no avail.

"It's not going to kill you, unless you decide to act stupidly," Hermione said coldly.

"You said you weren't going to kill me! You  ** _promised_**  you weren't going to kill me!" Ernsta wailed.

Hermione narrowed her eyes slightly, enough, however, to stop Ernsta from shouting. "I will keep to my promise if you cooperate. Now if you can just sit down, I need answers, or do you indeed want to die?"

Ernsta sat down at the edge of her bed, still sobbing quietly and tears rolling down her cheeks.

"Is Grindelwald coming to this town?" Hermione asked.

Ernsta stopped her crying and ogled at Hermione. "How did you—"

"Answer the question," Hermione cut in.

Ernsta swallowed and nodded. "But—"

"Is Voldemort going to come here?"

Ernsta nodded, sniffling.

"Why are they coming here at the same time?" Hermione questioned her.

Ernsta paused and bit her lower lip, uncertainty crossing her features. "Months ago, Gellert's followers came here. None of them talked about it straight out, but there were hushed whispers about someone called ‘Lord Voldemort’ challenging the powers of Gellert."

Ginny snorted. "Sounds like something he'd do."

Hermione could barely stop herself from rolling her eyes.

"Some of them guessed that when Gellert comes here again this year, Voldemort will try to defeat him," Ernsta said.

"Again? So Grindelwald visits this town every now and then?" Harry asked, surprised.

"No," Ernsta answered, shaking her head. "He only visits annually."

"Why?" Hermione asked.

Ernsta bit her lower lip, and Hermione tapped her foot on the floor impatiently. Ernsta must have noticed, since she immediately answered, "He says that he's here to visits Dietfried's grave, but to those of us who know him well enough, we know that he's here, trying to get Meinhardt on his side."

Harry, Ginny, and Hermione glanced at one another. Things seemed to be even more complicated than they had first anticipated it to be.

After asking Ernsta a couple of more questions, they Stunned her and placed her on the bed with her lover to prevent them from Apparating away. The four time travelers then went downstairs to the living room. Hermione, Harry, and Ginny each took a seat, but Draco paced in front of the fireplace.

"What are we going to do? What are we going to do?" he muttered.

"It would help if you just sit down instead of walking back and forth in front of us," Ginny replied dryly.

"Weaselette, are you not worried at all?" Draco asked, but stopped in place.

"About what? You fainting from the dizziness induced by your pacing?" Ginny asked in return.

"Grindelwald and Riddle both in town, Weaselette. And we're in the year 1950. That means that this duel will be the one where Riddle gets the Elder Wand. I don't know about the three of you, but I still find Grindelwald scary with or without the Elder Wand. That means that you're basically poking two sleeping dragons in the eye. I admire your courage; I should like to admire it from afar," Draco said with a shiver.

"We'll probably encounter Grindelwald before Tom does. At least, I hope," Hermione said with a frown.

"And how is that supposed to be better?" Draco asked, his voice a pitch higher.

"Unless you want Riddle to know that we've gotten the Elder Wand, Malfoy. I have no problem letting him think that the master of the wand is you," Ginny said, crossing her arms in front of her chest.

Draco snapped his mouth shut, but he quickly opened it again. "Why can't we look for Sparkly Eyes first anyway? He might be here, too, seeing that Riddle's on his way here."

"Because we don't know where he is right now," Hermione replied with a sigh. "If he's at Hogwarts, we can't Apparate across borders. If he's in Germany, we have no idea where he's staying at, since things clearly are not working out between him and Meinhardt now. We're not about to run around the country searching for him."

She thought she heard Draco mutter something like "But it would be safer," but she decidedly ignored it. Instead, she turned towards Harry and Ginny.

"I think we'll have to use a different approach to this. Dueling him for the wand is completely out of the question, since, well, he's only second on the list of the most feared dark wizards in history because of Tom," Hermione said.

A strangled laugh left Draco's mouth upon hearing her words.

Still ignoring him, she continued, "Grindelwald is an accomplished wizard and dueler, so he will probably notice if we use Disillusionment Charms on ourselves. The only way we can get close enough to steal the wand and even try to Stun him is with Harry's invisibility cloak." She then frowned and looked at Harry. "But then again, you've said last time that Dumbledore saw through the invisibility cloak, right?"

"I think it wasn't because he could see me through the cloak. I think it was more likely because I was a bit careless and in a hurry to get to the Mirror of Erised, and I did throw off the cloak immediately after I got into the room. I must have been leaving clues that someone was breaking into that room, which was why he was stationed there that night: to find out who was going into that room," Harry admitted, scratching the back of his head.

Hermione nodded. "So, the invisibility cloak it is. However, we can't let Grindelwald know about the cloak, since he would undoubtedly want to take it from Harry. Therefore, we need a distraction."

"A distraction? As in, you mean, a target practice for Grindelwald?" Draco asked, alarmed.

"Are you offering, ferret?" Ginny raised her eyebrows at him.

"I'll—I'll be the backup, thank you very much," Draco answered.

"As in the one who Stuns Grindelwald while we grab his wand and run?" Ginny asked humorously.

"Yes—No! No, you'll need someone as a look out. You know … someone in the dark, watching out if there are people waiting in secret to ambush us," Draco said.

"Or the one who can get out of the line of fire as soon as possible," Harry added wryly.

"Anyway, I don't think Draco will be a good distraction. His fear would show too much, and Grindelwald would definitely know that there are others," Hermione said, followed by a pause. "I'll be the distraction."

"No!" Harry and Ginny both shouted at the same time.

Hermione held up her hand. "Let me explain. If, for some strange reason, Riddle finds out that we have the Elder Wand, he would be wary in trying to get it from Harry. Therefore, the best person to become the master of it is Harry."

"But we can't let you be the distraction. We just can't. You're Muggle-born. Grindelwald's not going to even hesitate in hexing you," Harry argued.

"As if he would hesitate when he sees Ginny or you? Like Draco had said, there's basically no ways to tell if you're Muggle-born or not, so—"

"Then how did his followers know that you're a Muggle-born?" Ginny pointed out. "We still haven't figured that out yet, and we're not letting you put yourself in that kind of danger, Hermione. I'll be the distraction."

"No!" Harry and Hermione both yelled this time.

"Let me guess, Potty will be the next to offer, and the two of you will go berserk and scream 'No,' too," Draco muttered on the side, rolling his eyes. "Gryffindors and their damned so-called valiance. Draw straws or flip a Galleon if you can't get yourself to come to a solution."

Harry, Hermione, and Ginny shared a look with one another, and they had to agree that Draco's suggestion was probably the best idea. Harry ended up drawing the shortest piece of the three pieces of dry grass that was used. Though Ginny and Hermione were unhappy with the outcome, there was nothing they could do about it.

"Do you reckon Ernsta will know when Grindelwald is coming?" Ginny asked, once that was settled.

"She probably should know," Harry answered with a nod. "We should've asked her."

"Well, it's never too late, since she's just upstairs," Hermione said with a grin.

With that, the four of them went to Ernsta's room again. This time, Draco didn't bother with the Disillusionment Charm. Instead, he opted to stay slightly behind Harry. He was most likely hoping that Ernsta wouldn't remember to mention his name if she were to go to the German Aurors after this.

After reversing the Stunner, Hermione asked, "When is Grindelwald coming?"

"You—you still haven't—haven't given me the—the antidote. What if—what if the poison kills me?" Ernsta whimpered.

"Answer my question and I will consider giving you the antidote," Hermione said, crossing her arms over her chest.

"Either—either tomorrow—or the day—the day after tomorrow," Ernsta answered.

Her eyes were pleading for mercy. Hermione's response, however, was a wave of her wand and sending another Stunner towards her.

A shiver ran down Draco's spine, and he stared at her carefully when she turned around.

"What?" she asked, frowning, as they walked out of the room and closed the door behind them. "Oh, and what were you going to tell me earlier when I was busy with the hag?"

"Did you even notice the resemblance between you and Riddle when you were threatening her?" Draco asked.

Hermione shrugged. "It works."

"Yes, but … it's not just similar to him. It was  ** _exactly_**  like him, Granger," Draco said, and there was a twinge of fear in his voice.

Harry must have heard it, too, since he said, "Don't be silly, Malfoy. Hermione wasn't even going to poison her for real. That bottle she threw at Ernsta, it was one of the ones we've brought home tonight."

"I know that, Potter. But still … it was frightening," Draco said slowly.

"I don't see how. If Hermione really wanted to go over to Riddle's side and help him, she wouldn't have suggested getting the Elder Wand before he does," Ginny said, shrugging her shoulders.

Draco seemed like he wanted to say something else, but in the end, he decided to keep quiet and only shot another wary glance towards Hermione. There seemed to be something else on his mind, but Hermione didn't have the time to mull over that yet.

She needed to concentrate on what to do about their confrontation with Grindelwald first.

~-0-~

The night came and went a bit too quickly, in Hermione's opinion. After giving Ernsta the "antidote," the time travelers had decided to stay in the rooms they had previously stayed in. No matter what Hermione did, however, she could not fall asleep, and she had a hunch that it was the same with Ginny, since she tossed and turned in her bed, too.

Hermione knew that she should get some sleep, especially if Grindelwald were to show up in the morning. However, the more she thought about it, the more flaws she saw in the plan. Why on Earth did they think it was a good idea to just  ** _confront_**  Grindelwald, regardless whether or not some of them were acting as backups? And how could she possibly let Harry walk up to the second darkest wizard in the history of the wizarding world?

When she finally did fall asleep, morning seemed to have come too soon. It appeared that neither Harry nor Draco had slept well either, since both of them had dark circles under their eyes.

"Should've remembered to bring a Dreamless Sleep Potion with us," Draco muttered as they stalked downstairs.

"A bit too late to think of that," Ginny said as she slouched down into one of the armchairs. "How are we going to know Grindelwald's here anyway? It's not as if he's going to march in with an army and alert the whole town—"

The sounds of people marching echoed throughout the villages, passing through the walls of the house and reaching their ears. Then, it stopped, and Hermione could not help but marvel at the synchronicity—it sounded more like a trained army, rather than just a bunch of followers.

"—is he?" Ginny finished her question weakly.

"We should wake Ernsta up. What if Grindelwald wants to see her?" Hermione asked, her tone of voice unconsciously a lot lower than before.

As quickly as they could, they went up the stairs and into Ernsta's room. After they undid the Stunning Spell on her, Hermione kept her wand pointed at her and threw her the water bottle again.

"You're not—"

Hermione cut her off. "Yes, I am. Drink it and keep quiet about our presence, or else you'll die along with us."

Ernsta nodded slowly before taking a drink out of the water bottle. Somehow, Hermione felt uneasy about the expression on her face. If she had a second choice, she would have used a Polyjuice Potion and pretended to be Ernsta instead. However, in current conditions, they had no other options. Hermione was positive that Grindelwald would want to see Ernsta, seeing that he was seemingly here to mourn over Dietfried's death.

At that moment, someone knocked on the door. Ernsta shot Hermione a look, as if she were asking for permission to open the door. Reluctantly, Hermione nodded. She knew that it would be even more conspicuous if Ernsta didn't open the door. Once Ernsta was out of the room and down the stairs, however, Hermione turned towards the other three.

"We have to get out of here. I don't trust her, and I don't think she believes that she's poisoned any longer, or she's thinking that Grindelwald can help her find the antidote, and since they're speaking in German, we wouldn't know what she's telling Grindelwald. Draco, Harry, Disillusion yourselves."

"Why don't we just Apparate out of here?" Draco asked, his voice cracking.

"There might be a possibility of getting the Elder Wand. Now Disillusion yourself, quickly," Hermione instructed.

She then threw the invisibility cloak over Ginny and her, and as quietly as they could, they made their way down the stairs. She could hear the sound of people conversing in German, and when they reached the foot of the stairs, she peeked through the doorway leading to the living room. She mentally cursed when she saw three men, wearing the robes with the sign of the Hallows sewn over the left chest, standing in front of the entrance. Her eyes flickered over to the fireplace and found Ernsta standing close to a man with golden blond hair.

Hermione had no idea what she expected Gellert Grindelwald to look like, but this was definitely not on the list of possibilities. If she remembered correctly, he must be nearing seventy now and just two years younger than Dumbledore. Hermione had no idea if it was because of the way he held himself or was it because of that smile on his face, but he looked much younger, and he had a certain kind of charm to him that pulled people to him. For a moment, Hermione was reminded of Tom, though Grindelwald seemed much merrier.

_Merrier, but by no means, less deadly._

As that thought went through Hermione's head, Grindelwald took out his wand and, with a wider smile, pointed upwards. An unknown spell left the Elder Wand and disappeared through the ceiling.

"I see," Grindelwald said.

His sudden switch to English startled Hermione, and she could feel Ginny stiffen beside her.

Ernsta answered something in German, and Hermione had a very good idea that the woman had just given the second darkest wizard in history confirmation that they, as in the four time travelers, were present in the house. Her suspicions were quickly confirmed by Grindelwald's next words.

"Now, now, Ernsta, we mustn't be rude to our guests. They would have no idea what we're saying if we continue conversing in German."

Grabbing onto Ginny's hand, Hermione tried to Apparate and was terrified to find out that she couldn't. Grindelwald must have put up the anti-Apparition wards with that spell.

"Take off your spells, unless you believe that we do not possess the knowledge to take it off ourselves," another voice spoke up coldly.

It was then that Hermione realized that Paulos Meinhardt was also present in the room.

"Plan A it is," Hermione heard Harry whisper before he took the spell off himself, and she realized that he was talking about the plan to get the Elder Wand.

Their chances of succeeding had never looked so grim before, and Hermione had no idea why Harry thought it was a good idea to try out their "plan" now.

"And the other three people?" Meinhardt pressed on.

"They're upstairs," Harry lied, and Hermione hoped that he'd remembered to keep his Occlumency walls up because they really had no idea if Grindelwald knew Legilimency or not.

"Oh?" Grindelwald asked, rubbing his chin with one hand, as if in thought. "Should I assume then that one of them had thought it was a good idea to follow you under the Disillusionment Charm?"

He waved his hand towards somewhere left behind Harry, and a deep intake of breath was heard. Draco must be standing there.

"Come, come. Do take off the charm. You did have a wand to put the spell on yourself in the first place after all," Grindelwald said.

Thankfully, perhaps due to months and months of practice in being around Voldemort, Draco did not try to hide or hesitate when he heard Grindelwald's words. It would be unwise to try to fool the dark wizard. Hermione was suddenly grateful that Draco and Harry were the ones who were using the Disillusionment Charms because at least, both of them knew Occlumency to a certain extent.

"Now then, perhaps you will like to enlighten us in regards to why you are here," Grindelwald said amicably, his jovial blue eyes glancing between Harry and the now visible Draco. Nonetheless, the authority in his voice was evident.

"On Dumbledore's orders, most likely," Meinhardt said with a sneer.

"Professor Dumbledore has nothing to do with this," Harry said defensively. "He had no idea that we were coming to Germany. He has nothing to do with Dietfried's death."

Something flashed through Grindelwald's eyes upon hearing Harry's words. However, instead of getting worried, he leaned back into the armchair and watched on with the same grin on his face.

"Oh?" Meinhardt asked, a cold smile lingering at the corners of his lips. "Are you saying that you're taking full responsibility of Dietfried's death then?"

Harry stared at him. "No. I'm simply stating that this has nothing to do with Dumbledore. Neither does it have anything to do with us!" He quickly added. He paused. "It never had anything to do with us."

"He's lying, Gellert. Of course he's going to deny killing my husband," Ernsta said quickly.

"I'm not denying or lying about anything, and you know who killed Dietfried. You were in on the whole plot," Harry said angrily. "You probably even helped Riddle kill Dietfried."

Ernsta's face tensed, but then she widened her eyes and stared at Harry with what seemed like disbelief. "Are you saying— ** _saying_**  that I killed my  ** _husband_**  for someone I hardly know? For a stranger I've only met for three days? Where is the logic of that?"

"It's not the first time," Harry retorted. "What happened to your previous husbands?"

Ernsta's face turned white before turning red, though Hermione had no idea if were from embarrassment or fear.

"This is—this is blasphemy—lies—How dare you say that of me? How dare you accuse me of such things?" she stuttered. Without warning, she buried her face in her hands, and the sounds of her loud sobbing filled the room.

"This is complicated," Grindelwald said. His eyes were on Harry, but Hermione had the feeling that he was watching Meinhardt's reaction instead. "This young man here says one thing, and dear Ernsta says another."

"It's clearly the works of Dumbledore," Meinhardt said harshly. "Leaving the job to others, not showing up until the last moment to clear up the mess so that he would seem like the hero—it's not the first time and I doubt it would be the last." He paused and glared at Harry. "And they do not have a reason for disappearing right after Dietfried's death. If Ernsta had had something to do with this, she wouldn't have stayed and waited for the Aurors to take her for questioning."

Hermione wanted to scream at, or rather, throttle Meinhardt. It was obvious that the German Ministry of Magic was under Grindelwald's control now. So how hard was it for him to make it sound as if Ernsta had nothing to do with Dietfried's death, especially when he wanted to turn people against Dumbledore?

Harry seemed to understand the predicament they were in right now, since his hand was inside his pocket, and Hermione was sure that it was grasping firmly to the handle of his wand. Nonetheless, the odds were completely against them. If she disregarded Grindelwald's followers, they still had to duel Meinhardt and Grindelwald, both of whom were excellent duelers.

With the anti-Apparition wards up, obtaining the Elder Wand today was no longer an option. In order for that plan to work, they needed a quick getaway so that they wouldn't need to deal with a furious Grindelwald and his followers.

Their other option was to run; the path leading to the back door was seemingly clear, unless Grindelwald had the house surrounded. Hermione hoped not.

However, once they started running, Meinhardt and Grindelwald would surely chase after them, and Hermione was sure that Grindelwald's aim would not be as poor as his followers.

As soundlessly as she could, Hermione pulled out her wand as the wheels of her mind turned quickly. She needed a distraction, something that would catch both Grindelwald and Meinhardt's attention while they made a run for it. It couldn't be too easy of a spell either, since they needed the time. For the first time, since they learned about the wacky timeline, Hermione was glad that she had Tom as a professor.

Raising her wand, she carefully aimed it towards the center of the room. She glanced at Ginny and mouthed "Fiendfyre" before flicking her eyes towards Grindelwald's followers. Ginny gave her a small nod, indicating that she understood what she needed to do. Once Ginny had her wand raised, Hermione turned her head back towards her target.

They only had one chance.

Throwing off the invisibility cloak, they both cast the Fiendfyre curse before grabbing both Draco and Harry.

Without waiting for their reactions, Hermione pulled Draco towards the kitchen, with Harry and Ginny closely behind them. They had taken less than ten steps before Hermione heard a low cry from behind, followed by Harry's horrified yell.

"Ginny!"

Hermione twisted her head around, and she heard Ginny's voice before she could see her.

"I'm alright. Keep going, Hermione!"

Hermione could hear the pain in her voice. However, Hermione knew that it would be too dangerous to stop. She was only thankful that whoever had harmed Ginny hadn't thought of using the Killing Curse.

At that same moment, Grindelwald shouted something in German over the chaos, though Hermione had no idea what. She could only hope that he had thought of the same thing she had and had forbidden his followers to use the Killing Curse in order to capture them alive for questioning.

When they were nearly reaching the back door, Hermione threw a spell at it, completely obliterating it. She could hear the screams coming from the direction of the living room, and for one absurd second, she wondered if the Elder Wand could be destroyed by Fiendfyre. It was probably better that way anyway.

Then, she wondered if the Fiendfyre could hold up Grindelwald and his followers for long, since Grindelwald did have the Elder Wand now. The good thing was that they had taken him by surprise, so perhaps they would need to get the fire under control before they could concentrate on capturing them. Besides, Grindelwald probably thought—and Hermione agreed with him—that it would be impossible for them to get away, since he already had the anti-Apparition wards up.

They ran into the forest behind Dietfried's house, and Hermione was glad that they hadn't taken off the anti-slipping spells from their shoes. Any second now, Grindelwald and Meinhardt might swoop down on them. Would the anti-Apparitions wards work against Grindelwald, too? Most likely, yes, and he would have to take them down before he could Apparate in front of them. However, he probably wouldn't want to risk taking down the wards, in fear that the four of them might Disapparate the moment they got the chance to.

All of a sudden, Draco stumbled down beside her, and a yelp of pain left his lips.

"Are you alright?" Hermione asked, glancing frantically backwards as she knelt down to check on him.

Dietfried's house was nowhere in sight, and they couldn't see any pursuers yet. Nonetheless, Hermione knew that they had at most a couple of minutes to spare. They hadn't covered up their tracks in the snow, so it would be easy to follow them.

"No …" Draco moaned. "Twisted … my ankle."

Hermione took out her wand and flicked it towards his ankle. "Does it still hurt?"

"Yes," Draco answered, his face scrunched up in pain.

She realized that he couldn't be lying because she doubted he would want to get captured by Grindelwald. Therefore, he must have broken something.

"You must have broken something," she announced with a frown, realizing that they couldn't fix it on the spot. She flicked her wand at his foot again, creating a cast around it. "Put your arm around me. I'll support you."

"Wait—what—No, definitely not, Granger," Draco said.

"It's not the time to pretend that you're courageous or something, Malfoy," Ginny chided.

She had her arm around Harry's shoulders, too, and it was then that Hermione realized that there was a long gash right down her right arm. The redhead's face was pale white right now, and Hermione quickly flicked her wand at the wound, hoping to stop the bleeding a bit.

"It's not working very well. I tried it, but the wound would just open up a few minutes later," Harry said, a deep frown on his face. "We need to get to a safe place before we can tend to it."

"Come on, Draco," Hermione said, reaching out towards him again.

"No, Granger. You hold onto Weaselette, and I'll let Potty hold onto me," Draco said.

"What's your problem now?" Hermione asked impatiently.

"If Riddle sees you carrying me like that, what would he think—"

"What's the chances of us running into Tom right now, you moron?" Hermione yelled in frustration.

"—and if we weren't trying to run away from the  ** _other_**  dark lord right now, I would keep a ten foot radius away from you right now," Draco said, his face turning as white as Ginny.

"So nice of you to remember that there are people chasing after us," Hermione said sarcastically.

As if on cue, they suddenly heard a shout from somewhere behind them. Taking a glance in that direction, Hermione forcefully pulled Draco's arm around her and picked him up.

"If you're going to be difficult, I'll Full Body-Bind you next," she threatened.

They started running again, but it was a lot more difficult this time, since Draco was quite heavier than Hermione. There were many times when Hermione nearly tripped over herself, and the sounds of their pursuers getting closer and closer to them made her start to panic. The horrible sense of déjà vu washed over her, but this time, they couldn't Apparate out of here. Hermione didn't know if they could get out of this unharmed at all.

"We'll have to go faster," Harry muttered behind Hermione, and she knew that it must be because he could catch glimpses of their pursuers by now.

"Wouldn't Disillusioning ourselves make it harder for them to catch us?" Draco asked, his face scrunched up in pain.

"We don't have time to stall right now," Hermione said.

Suddenly, a sound similar to that of a clap of thunder roared through the air, and Hermione reflexively looked upwards, almost expecting to find dark clouds in the sky. However, the next second, she knew that the sound was not of natural causes. It was the sound of anti-Apparition wards being torn down.

Multiple cracks resounded through the forest, and figures in black appeared in front of them.

And for the first time in her life—not including the memories from the wacky timeline—Hermione Granger was almost glad to see Tom Marvolo Riddle and his Knights standing in front of them.

~-0-~

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **A/N** : Many thanks to MaraudersWolf and Nerys for beta-ing this chapter. 


	53. Chapter 53

"Oh, shit," Draco cursed under his breath when he saw who had appeared.

The moment Tom's eyes landed on them, Draco immediately tried to struggle away from Hermione, who was currently supporting him with an arm around his waist.

"What are you doing?" Hermione asked.

"Get off me, Granger. Let go of me," he growled.

"Don't be silly. Your ankle's hurt, and you're not going to get yourself hurt even more just because of your fear of Tom," she hissed as she readjusted her arm that Draco had just managed to push away.

"Well, this is cozy." Tom's voice, though soft, traveled clearly into each and every person's ears, and Hermione could feel Draco stiffen beside her.

"Let go of me.  _ **Now**_ ," he demanded, increasing the strength with which he was trying to push Hermione away.

Suddenly, Hermione had no idea how it happened, but Draco lost his balance, and crashed into her. With a loud "Oomph!" she fell onto the snow, and another grunt left her mouth when Draco managed to collapse right on top of her.

"Oh, shit. Shit, shit, shit," he muttered, his voice laced with pain as he tried to get off her.

"Ow!" Hermione yelled when Draco's elbow nudged into her ribs when he fell yet again.

Before she could "nicely" suggest to Draco to roll over onto the snow so that she could get up first, he was pulled off her body. She couldn't do anything but stare as Tom shoved Draco towards Abraxas Malfoy. Draco's whimpers of pain snapped her out of it, and she scowled at Tom.

"He's hurt," she said angrily as she sat up.

He merely gazed at her; the intensity in his dark eyes made her still on the spot as her anger ebbed away at an alarmingly quick rate. Without warning, her cheeks flared up and her frown disappeared, regardless of the fact that she was sitting in the snow. The moment he held out his hand, she grasped it without much hesitation, letting him pull her up to her feet.

Once again, Hermione silently cursed the gods for the unfairness of it all. Though he was already drop-dead gorgeous when he was back at Hogwarts, he even more attractive now with five years added to his age. Not that she was complaining, of course, since she did secretly mourn to herself when she thought she was never going to see the handsome version of him anymore. Snakeface did have a way of charming people, but when he had  _ **this**_ face, she could just sit there and stare at him for the whole day.

His hair was just as neatly set as she remembered, and his eyes—were his eyes darker than they were before, or was she imagining things?—still had that red glint that could only be seen at the right angles. Along with his black robes, they formed a sharp contrast to the pure white snow they were standing in. Perhaps it had to do with the fact that he no longer had to parade around with that innocent façade, but even though his features briefly softened when he faced her, there was still that aura of darkness surrounding him, reminding her more of the future Lord Voldemort than the one she had known back in Hogwarts.

At that moment, she was unpleasantly reminded of the time when he tricked— _ **would**_ trick her as Professor Riddle. She was just contemplating on whether to hex or bite him when the sounds of people running towards them reminded her that they had pursuers. Now was not exactly the time to piss off the only person who had the chance to save them from Grindelwald's clutches.

Besides, there was something else far more important.

She poked her finger into his chest. " _ **How**_  did you know there was a strange, locked box in  _ **Ernsta's**_ bedroom? Why and when did you go in there?"

Tom raised an eyebrow at her. "You're asking that  _ **now**_?"

"Yes, I'm asking that  _ **now**_ ," Hermione replied firmly.

"When you're getting hunted down by, give or take, twenty to thirty people?" Tom asked.

Good point.

Hermione frowned. "Fine. But we're going to talk about this later."

The two men who were ahead of the crowd chasing them let out a triumphant shout when they caught sight of the four time travelers, and they quickened their footsteps. However, when they were mere steps away from grabbing Harry and Ginny, they fell backwards into the snow with a yell, as if they had just crashed into some kind of invisible wall—Hermione wouldn't be too surprised if they did, given whose presence they were in. She glanced upwards towards Tom and found him gazing at the two men on the ground with a cold smirk.

"What day did you arrive?" Tom asked as he glanced back at her.

After deciding that this was information that she need not keep from him, Hermione answered, "Around a week ago."

Displeasure crossed over his features so quickly that she nearly didn't catch it. She wondered what he was displeased about.

The next moment, his lips curved upwards sarcastically. "Around a week and you managed to get Gellert Grindelwald on your trail. Impressive."

"Not my fault that you decided to kill Dietfried," she retorted.

His smile widened, but he didn't answer as his eyes moved away from her to look ahead. With a fluid movement, he steered her behind him and walked forward as Gellert Grindelwald appeared amidst his followers. Hermione took the chance and slipped over to where Harry and Ginny were standing.

"Are you alright?" she asked Ginny.

"Don't worry. I'm still alive," Ginny said, giving her a wink as Harry cast another blood-stopping spell at her wound.

Hermione was about to say something when Grindelwald spoke up.

"Lord Voldemort, I assume." He stood some ten feet away from Tom, still sporting a genial smile and the Elder Wand in his hand.

Tom tilted his head to one side. "Gellert Grindelwald."

Grindelwald subtly let his eyes run over Tom, and for a moment, Hermione thought that she saw a glint of skepticism flash through his eyes, but the next second, it was gone, replaced by the same easygoing friendliness.

"I welcome you to Germany," Grindelwald said with a gentlemanly bow, though he never kept his eyes off Tom.

Amused, Tom looked towards the skies. "I suppose that was your welcoming present. You must forgive me then, for … tearing apart your 'gift.'"

Disbelief triggered a soft murmur amongst Grindelwald's followers; even Grindelwald himself seemed to be slightly surprised by the competence of this young man standing in front of him.

"You must forgive me for being such a horrible host. You see, before I could prepare for your arrival, four youngsters who were involved in the death of one of my best friends appeared. I had to place the anti-Apparition wards to prevent them from escaping." Grindelwald's eyes flickered over the four of them.

"Is that so?" Tom asked softly. Slowly, his lips curved into a smirk. "And you plan on capturing them now?"

The challenge in his words caused multiple sharp intakes of breath amongst Grindelwald's followers. Surprisingly, Grindelwald managed to keep his face collected, and Hermione could not even find a trace of anger in his expression.

"I'm simply asking for them to come back with me to—hm … whatever is left of Dietfried's house and explain things. I'm sure that if they give them a satisfactory and thorough account of what had happened, Ernsta and Paulos would not harm them in the slightest." Grindelwald nodded towards Meinhardt, who nodded in return, giving them a wordless promise that he would not hurt the time travelers.

"Whatever is left of Dietfried's house?" Tom inquired, raising an eyebrow.

"Oh yes. It took us a while before we could get the fire from the Fiendfyre Curse under control, so that we can reverse the spell," Grindelwald replied. "Fascinating skill in spell-casting, I must say."

"The Fiendfyre Curse …" Tom said softly.

A furious blush colored Hermione's cheeks. In her defense, she couldn't think of a mild spell that could hinder Meinhardt and Grindelwald long enough for them to make their escape, and they were lucky that they had Harry's invisibility cloak with them. If they didn't take Grindelwald by surprise, Hermione was certain that he could've stopped it immediately.

Then again, she shouldn't worry about getting reprimanded on casting the curse anyway. The worst thing that could happen to her was Tom's eternal mocking about a Gryffindor resorting to the Dark Arts instead of using Ministry-approved spells.

"We do realize that the two ladies must have been worried about their beloveds' safety, which was why they decided to use the Fiendfyre Curse to get out of trouble. However, rest assured, we will not hold that against them," Grindelwald said.

Tom's eyes narrowed, and Hermione could see him stiffen for a barely noticeable time fragment. Though he didn't say anything, she could feel the annoyance roll off him in waves.

Draco's mouth dropped open, and he struggled to move forward, but the pain in his ankle prevented him from doing so without help. Abraxas, nonetheless, held him back rather than helped him, perhaps afraid to do so without instructions from his Lord.

"Wait—No. No, no, no. I'm not her 'beloved.' I'm just her friend, comrade, companion!  _ **Not**_  her beloved," Draco protested from where he was standing. "You've gotten it completely wrong. I have nothing to do with her—well, we're friends, but I do  _ **not**_ have any amorous intentions towards her. I never did and I never will."

Tom glanced backwards. "Silence him."

"Yes, my Lord," Abraxas murmured before waving his wand at Draco and placing the Silencing Charm on him.

Tom looked back at Grindelwald, not a trace of anger left on his impassive face. "I thought the case of Dietfried's death was already closed."

Grindelwald looked at him, genuine surprise flashing over his face. "Yes, it was. However, we also came to the conclusion that the boy couldn't have singlehandedly killed Dietfried. He must have had accomplices."

He stared at Harry, Ginny, Hermione, and Draco in turn.

Boy? He couldn't possibly mean Nicholas, could he? Hermione's mouth dropped open, and she stared at Tom disbelievingly as Ginny, who had probably arrived at the same conclusion, gasped. Well, they shouldn't be surprised; it wasn't exactly the first time he had framed someone for his deeds, but this was … this was far too much. They hardly knew Nicholas! Hermione was so going to have a talk with him when they got out of this.

When Tom did not say anything, Grindelwald continued, "Of course, we are not saying that your … friends? Or are they your … followers?"

The patronizing tone of voice he had adopted clearly showed that he did not view Tom as a potential threat. In any other situations, Hermione would've found it funny; it was like a warped version of history rewritten right in front of her face. Voldemort had underestimated Harry, which was half of the reason why he had lost, and now Grindelwald was doing the same exact thing.

Much to Hermione's surprise, however, Tom didn't seem angry about his question. His lips curved slightly upwards before Hermione realized why: He wanted Grindelwald to underestimate him, and Hermione wouldn't be surprised if Grindelwald knew this. However, with all of Grindelwald's brilliance, it would have been impossible for him to take Tom seriously. Tom looked much too young to him to be a potential threat, and Hermione was sure that Tom was suppressing his magic, preventing Grindelwald from knowing the true limits of his proficiency—she knew because she had already felt it during Hunting Day, when he momentarily allowed his magic to run unrestrained due to anger. It was not something that could be expected from someone who was Tom's age.

Grindelwald perhaps had expected Tom to answer because the pause was unnaturally long, and as the amusement on Tom's face continued to grow, so did the annoyance in Grindelwald's eyes. Yet, she had no idea how the latter maintained that amiable smile on his face in such an awkward situation. Although Hermione had to admit that his expression was disconcerting, to say the least, and anyone else would have realized that this was probably a good time to run for the hills.

"Your … acquaintances then," Grindelwald concluded, his words coming out just slightly more forced than they previously were, though he had managed to hide the displeasure in his eyes by now.

His fingers ran along the length of the Elder Wand, and Hermione could almost see the wheels of his mind turning, determining which spells to use on the insolent young man who dared to be so haughty in front of him.

"We are not saying that the four of them necessarily had a hand in Dietfried's death. We simply want a few words with them," Grindelwald continued.

Silence hung in the air for a while, as if everyone were waiting with bated breath for Tom's reaction.

"No."

The word dropped from Tom's lips like a boulder from a cliff; though he spoke with his signature soft voice, every person present heard his answer clearly. The mask of pleasantness visibly cracked as Grindelwald narrowed his eyes, and his grip around the Elder Wand tightened until his knuckles turned white. The mouths of a couple of Grindelwald's followers dropped open again; enragement appeared on others' faces. However, one move was uniform amongst them—they all reached for their wands. Upon seeing this, Tom's Knights pulled out their wands, too.

Before either side could open fire, Grindelwald extended his arm, signaling for his followers to stop, as he shot a warning glance towards all of them. Tom raised his hand, and though reluctant, his Knights lowered their wands.

Grindelwald turned his attention back to Tom. "I think you may be misunderstanding some—"

"Oh no, Gellert," Tom interrupted him idly. "I think I understand precisely what you're asking for. Even if you were to word yourself differently, the answer will be the same: No."

Meinhardt said something loudly in German before taking a step forward. "Who do you think you are? You are in Germany right now, not  _ **safely**_ in your stronghold of England, in the arms of your mummy—" An ugly sneer appeared on his face. "—if you even have as much power as your title dictates. Lord Voldemort, is it? For someone so young, you are sure arrogant to name yourself like that, and if you—"

His words suddenly turned into screams; Hermione had no idea when it happened, but Tom's wand was out and pointing towards Meinhardt. Surprise sprinted across Grindelwald's face, and then the Elder Wand slashed through the air. Tom merely quirked his wand a quarter of an inch to the side seconds before the flash of blue hit him, and the spell hit his Shield Charm instead. With impossibly quick moves, he sent three spells right back at Grindelwald, who seemed even more surprised than angry at this point.

With a flick of the Elder Wand, Grindelwald conjured a Shield Charm, too, before throwing another two spells towards Tom. Hermione's heart nearly stopped when the spells almost hit him. However, seconds before they collided into him, Tom flicked his wand, successfully deflecting it, rather than blocking it. The spells gained even more momentum as they propelled themselves through the air before finally hitting Meinhardt, who was being helped up by two of Grindelwald's followers.

Meinhardt doubled over, bringing those two men down with him as he screamed at the top of his lungs. Hermione had no idea which spells did what, but when she looked closely at Meinhardt, she saw that the front of his robes had melted as well as a good portion of the skin at the front of his body as if someone had just poured acid on him. A horrified looked appeared on Grindelwald's face, but he dared not move, wary that Tom might take that chance to attack him.

The smile on Tom's face turned vicious as he watched the spell eat into the flesh of Meinhardt's chest. Blood spilled out of the wound onto the ground beneath Meinhardt. Indecisiveness flashed through Grindelwald's face as the metallic smell of blood wafted over everyone's noses.

"Dear Godric …" Ginny whimpered softly before burying her head in Harry's chest.

The snow beneath Meinhardt was stained a glaring red color now, and Hermione knew that if something wasn't done now, he would die. Grindelwald seemed to have come to the same conclusion because from where he was standing, he flicked his wand towards Meinhardt twice, and a brown flash of light followed by a forest green spell hit Meinhardt where the curse had.

It seemed like the spell had been reversed, since the wound did not seem to be growing bigger, though Hermione could not be sure. Meinhardt's screams had died down into whimpering and ragged pants—he no longer had the strength to scream. Tears streamed down his youthful face, and his eyes were wide, unseeing as it stared straight above towards the skies.

"You've stopped the spell from continuing to eat into the skin," Tom said quietly.

For a split second, Hermione wondered why he was stating the obvious, but when she saw the malicious smile on his face, she realized that he wasn't finished yet.

"But you know that he will die within ten minutes if he doesn't get any help," he continued as he twirled the yew wand idly between his long fingers. "The snow isn't going to help him."

"Stop it," one of the followers holding onto Meinhardt said. Strangely enough, the young man did not have a German accent, just like Meinhardt, and his features …

The blood drained from Hermione's face. The young man's features were far too similar to Meinhardt for it to be a coincidence. The only difference was that Meinhardt had white hair while the young man had dark blond. Her eyes flickered between the young man and the dying man on the ground, and she realized that he must be Meinhardt's son.

"In fact, the cold might just increase the speed with which he's going to die," Tom said as if he hadn't heard what the young man had said. "A curious little spell, the Curse of Korsak, isn't it?"

The Curse of Korsak … oh no …

Hermione clasped her hand over her mouth as it dropped open. She wanted to help Meinhardt. She really, really did; his wife and he were both kind to her and Ginny when they first arrived in Germany, regardless of how aggressive he was this time. Besides, he had a reason—he thought that they had something to do with Dietfried's death. But how could she help him? She doubted Tom would listen to her in this situation, especially when Meinhardt had basically signed his own death warrant the moment he mocked Tom.

Tom's dark eyes slid over to Grindelwald, and his smile deepened. "He has approximately six minutes before he starts retching out his organs. Do you think you can manage to find all the necessary potions in time?"

Grindelwald's teeth were clenched together, and for the first time since Hermione saw him, the merriment on his face and eyes had completely disappeared, replaced by a frightening amount of fury. Tendrils of his magic reached out, nearly causing Hermione to suffocate. However, Tom looked like he was completely unaffected.

Suddenly, Grindelwald said something to Meinhardt's son in German. Hermione presumed that he was ordering the young man to take his father somewhere safe first. The young man seemed to be protesting about something before he turned his angry glare onto Tom. Grindelwald said something again, but before the young man could say anything, a string of German came out of Tom's mouth, successfully surprising everyone on Grindelwald's side again. Grindelwald's eyes turned calculating as he studied Tom anew, and hints of cautiousness speckled his expression.

Hermione's attention was then caught by Meinhardt's son when he stood up. She took a step forward, worried about how they were going to go about bringing Meinhardt to safety.

"You can't use Apparition in his condition," Hermione reminded him.

The blond adjusted his glare on Hermione, and momentarily, it softened when he realized that the care she had expressed was genuine.

"I know. Thank you," he answered, and with a flick of his wand, he levitated his father.

Steadily but quickly, he moved in the direction of the town, and once they were out of sight, Grindelwald turned to face them again.

"We shall meet again," he said quietly to Tom.

Tom nodded, no longer bothering to hide the smirk on his face. "We shall."

Grindelwald snapped his fingers, and simultaneously, he and his followers Disapparated. Meinhardt's blood in the snow became obnoxiously noticeable, now that there was no one standing around that area. Hermione felt her stomach churn upon remembering the worry and anger on Meinhardt's son's face. She silently hoped that Meinhardt would make it through.

"Back to the cabin," Tom commanded, turning back to his followers.

A murmur of "Yes, my Lord" was then followed by the sounds of his Knights Disapparating. Before Draco could say anything, Abraxas held onto him and Disapparated, too.

Cabin … he couldn't possibly mean …

Hermione glanced at him with raised eyebrows.

"Where did they go?"

Tom's lips curved into a smile again. "Don't you already know the answer?"

~-0-~

The moment he arrived in Slytherin's cabin, his followers knelt down in front of him, and Hermione could barely stop herself from rolling her eyes. Unannounced, the image of herself doing the same thing came to her mind, and she promptly started to mentally recite  _Hogwarts, A History_.

That was definitely  _ **not**_ her.

The Knights were ordered out of the cabin, and Hermione had to stifle a laugh when she realized that they were going to set up tents outside the cabin as their temporary "rooms." This was what she called retribution, albeit a strange one. Though it would've been funnier and more just if their lord and master joined them, too.

Once the five of them were left in the cabin, Tom's eyes fell on the rations they had stolen from the town, and amusement appeared on his face yet again.

"Didn't bother to look for food in the kitchen?" he asked.

"There's nothing edible in there," Hermione retorted, "unless you call rotten tomatoes and dust-covered bread 'food.'"

"It never occurred to you that Slytherin would've had a magical preservation area beneath the floorboards?" Tom asked, even more entertained now.

Hermione opened and closed her mouth a couple of times. "How are we supposed to know that he would have something like that?" she grumbled.

Her anger was pushed away the moment Ginny slumped down in one of the chairs, her face pale.

"Does Slytherin have any Blood Replenishing Potions in here?" Hermione asked Tom.

"The curse is just going to let her lose it all again," he answered, crossing his arms over his chest. "She'll need to get that wound healed one of these days."

"Well, it's easy for you to say," Hermione said bossily. "She'll need the proper potions and spells need to be cast on the wound before and after she takes the potions. The potion could take weeks to brew up, and—"

"Magical preservation area," Tom interrupted her, an annoying smirk on his face.

Hermione's mouth snapped shut. It never really occurred to her that Slytherin would bother to keep antidotes to the Curse of Korsak in his basement. In fact, the thought of him getting wounded never really crossed her mind. Though the person who murdered him was standing right in front of her, it was still mind-boggling to think in that direction. After all, it was Salazar Slytherin, not just some other random bloke off the street.

"And I suppose you know the counter-curse as well," she deduced, thoroughly annoyed by that look on his face.

"I suppose so," Tom said offhandedly.

Hermione pulled out her wand and gazed at Tom. His eyes slid downwards to her wand before slowly making their way back to her face, his expression indecipherable.

"We'll need the potions," Hermione said.

Tom flicked his wand, and a vial of potion flew out from the kitchen and landed with a soft "clunk" on the table in front of Ginny.

The subconscious need to check everything Tom gave them stirred inside her, but Hermione decidedly pushed it down. If he really wanted to kill them, he would've used other ways. But what if he wanted answers? What if he wanted to know more about their future? How much did he know about the wacky future? Did he know that the future had changed because of the time travelers' presence?

However, Ginny's current condition frightened her, and she had no idea if the redhead could make it through the night without proper treatment to the curse.

Hermione determinedly ignored her fears and uneasiness and looked at Tom.

"And now?" she asked.

Tom tilted his head towards the vial. "She takes the potion and then the counter-curse will have to be cast on the wound."

"What's the spell?"

" _Lahkvusip porunthos_ ," Tom answered.

Hermione continued staring at him, and he tilted his head to one side. For a moment, she wondered if he were purposely playing dumb with her.

"What are the wand movements?" she asked, her tone of voice much more impatient by now.

That ire-invoking smirk appeared on his face again. "Correct me if I'm wrong, but I'm lead to believe that you are … inquiring about this so that you may perform the spell on Miss Weasley."

Hermione let out a huff of indignation. "Well, why else will I be asking you about this?"

"Perhaps to check if I weren't casting some illegal Dark Arts on her, or to make sure that I'm not trying to murder her in front of three eyewitnesses," Tom answered.

His stare was full of malicious joy, like he was enjoying some kind of private joke, and Hermione suddenly realized that the four of them hadn't exactly been inconspicuous about their suspicions. Ginny was staring at the vial of potions as if she were expecting it to jump up and bite her. Harry had a deep frown etched on his forehead, his eyes on the bottle, too. Draco was still trying to hide himself—rather unsuccessfully—behind Harry.

Then, she realized what he was implying.

"Wait, you're going to cast the spell on Ginny?" Hermione asked.

"No one else here knows how to perform the spell," he answered simply.

The moment they understood what that meant, Ginny's face turned couple of shades paler, and Harry immediately stepped forward.

"Show me how to do the spell then. I'll do it," Harry said.

"Or you could show me, and I'll do it," Hermione added.

Tom looked at them in turn, the amusement on his face growing exponentially by the second. "Pray tell, when did the two of you become proficient in the Dark Arts? And I don't mean the Unforgivables. If Crabbe and Goyle can manage to perform those spells with a certain level of aptitude, anyone can. Show me something more advanced than the Fiendfyre Curse."

Hermione bit down on the inside of her cheeks. Even though she—even though  _ **wacky Hermione**_  did get some training in the Dark Arts, the most complex one was precisely the Fiendfyre Curse, and she knew that this was the case with Harry, too.

"Why are you helping Ginny?" Harry asked, not bothering to hide the distrust from his face.

"Would you prefer me not to, Potter?"

"What do you think you're getting out of this?" Hermione demanded.

"Must I do everything for a reason?" Tom asked.

"Yes," Hermione deadpanned.

Tom raised an eyebrow at her. "Does it look like I can get anything out of this? Using the hard-to-get potions created by Salazar Slytherin himself—"

"Who was killed by you," Hermione added.

"—and performing spells that took a lot of time to perfect?" Tom asked.

"A lot of time," Hermione repeated with a snort. "Do you mean twenty minutes? Or an hour?"

They stared at one another for a while before a faint smile appeared on Tom's face. "So do you want to heal Weasley or not?"

"I'll—I'll just take the potion—" Ginny stuttered. "—it will still work, wouldn't it? Perhaps slower, but—"

Tom's expression turned impassive as he turned his attention towards the redhead. "It'll be a waste of potions. With the spell, you will only need six vials of it in comparison to eighteen."

And Hermione doubted he would be generous enough to allow that to happen.

Suddenly, without warning, Tom took out his wand and pointed it at Ginny. A frightened yelp left Ginny's mouth, and though she looked completely exhausted from the loss of blood, she somehow mustered enough strength to move herself to the side while Harry rushed forward towards her in alarm. The spell that left Tom's wand hit her straight in the chest.

"EEK!"

For a moment, Hermione wondered if Tom really did harm Ginny until she saw the horrified expression on the redhead's face. Hermione's mouth dropped open the moment she saw the reason: Ginny's robes had disappeared.

"Tom!" Hermione screeched as Ginny tried to cover herself with the arm that was unhurt.

Harry quickly went over to Hermione's sachet, took out the invisibility cloak, hurried over to where Ginny was, and held it up in front of her. However, it was not before Hermione got a glimpse of just how bad Ginny's injury was. Perhaps it was something similar to but a slower version of the Curse of Korsak, since the curse seemed to be continuously expanding. Right now, it ran from Ginny's wrists and up the entire length of her arm. From Hermione's viewpoint, she couldn't be sure if it also traveled down her back.

"Feel lucky that I was just trying to vanish your sleeve this time," Tom said coldly, unfazed by the things happening in front of them. "I'm not responsible for any glued-together limbs or organs if you move while I perform the counter-curse on you."

"The least you could've done was warned her about what you were going to do," Hermione said angrily.

"And I'm certain that will make Miss Weasley believe that I'm not about to kill her on the spot," Tom said wryly. He looked back towards Harry, his eyes flickering slightly when they landed on the invisibility cloak.

Hermione's heart skipped a beat. She wondered if he knew about the three Deathly Hallows, and it worried her that he might try to get it from Harry. She would have to think of a way to discourage him, or at least, think of a way to prevent him from taking the cloak from Harry. She looked at Ginny and found the redhead staring back at her with an anxious look. It worried Hermione that Tom also knew how important Ginny was to Harry. Thankfully, he hadn't thought about using the Weasleys to lure out Harry while they were Horcrux hunting—she wondered if the multiple soul-splitting and Dark spells he had cast on himself had also done something to his intelligence—but she knew that he wouldn't even hesitate about using Ginny as a bait now.

"Merlin, I knew you were freckly, but this is beyond imagination," Draco muttered, though his embarrassment was apparent from the red tinge on his face.

"Stop looking, ferret," Harry snapped.

"Nobody wants to see all those freckles, Potty," Draco said hotly.

"That's what you were doing," Harry argued.

"It's not as if I had a choice, is it? Her clothes disappeared before any of us knew it was going to happen," Draco said. With a sneer, he added, "Why not cover her face while you're at it, too, Potty? She has freckles there, too."

"You're in the way of my spell-casting, Potter," Tom said, cutting into their argument.

With a frown, Harry maneuvered his hands so that Ginny was still covered up, but he was out of Tom's way. Once Tom was done with the spell-casting, Harry made it a point to stand in front of Ginny with the invisibility cloak until she was fully clothed so that no one could see her nude again. This made Draco roll his eyes, but thankfully, he kept his mouth shut, since Harry was obviously thoroughly annoyed with the whole situation and at a breaking point.

They were then left with the problem of who was staying where at night. During the whole time the time travelers had stayed in the cabin, they had slept in what might have been a living room, since they couldn't find bedrooms. However, all except Hermione were rather wary about sleeping in the same room as Tom. Hermione found this a bit stupid, to be honest. If he'd really wanted to attack them in their sleep, he would've done so while they were staying at Dietfried's house.

It turned out that the cabin had two bedrooms concealed by magic, and Hermione was sure that those wards were not something that could have been taken down by outsiders. She had a hunch that Slytherin must have kept valuable things, such as books on magic and other artifacts in there when he was alive. More likely than not, all of them had been "borrowed" by Tom.

The sleeping arrangements were designated by Tom, and Hermione's embarrassment reached an all-time high when Tom insinuated that she would not be sharing a room with Harry, Draco, and Ginny, especially when the three of them avoided her eyes afterwards. She would have tried to talk Tom out of it, but it was obvious from the look in his eyes that he wouldn't take any of her suggestions into consideration.

"Oh, this is humiliating," Hermione moaned as she covered her face with her hands and sat down on the bed.

"It's not the first time they've seen something like this happen," Tom said with a pleased smirk, taking off his cloak and hanging it on the back of an armchair.

"The least you could've done was be a bit more inconspicuous," she said, scrunching up her face.

"Oh?" Tom asked, raising an eyebrow at her and leaning against the table. "What am I supposed to say then? 'The four of you will stay in this room tonight. Hermione, you are to sneak into my room in the middle of night when you're certain that they're asleep'? Don't be ridiculous."

"Right, like that would be any less obvious," Hermione said, rolling her eyes. She threw her hands up in the air in defeat. "Oh, never mind."

Pushing himself away from the table, he walked over to where she was sitting, towering over her. She glanced at him as he placed one of his knees on the bed and placed a hand under her chin, rubbing her jawline softly.

"I can't understand your worries," he admitted as he looked into her eyes.

She lowered her eyes and sighed. "I know."

His closeness suddenly made her shy, even though she shouldn't be. It had only been around a week since she'd seen him, even if the one she had seen was the snake-like version of him.

Memories about the wacky timeline, however, made her remember something, something  _ **infuriating**_ concerning a certain "Professor Riddle," that she needed to pay him back for.

Mustering all the strength she could, she pushed him away. Taken by surprised, he stumbled backwards, hitting his waist against the armchair and yelling out of pain. Before he could react, she had already gotten up and kicked him hard in the shin. It made a small smile appear on her face when he let out a yell, but it wasn't enough. It was too small of a punishment for his "crime."

She raised her leg and was about to kick him in the groin, when he suddenly moved out the way. Her foot impacted the back of the chair instead, causing her face to scrunch up in pain, and she grasped onto her foot with her hand and leaned against the bed as she glared at the one who was to be blamed for this. Usually, that look on Tom's face would've caused fear to rise from the bottom of her stomach, but under the current conditions, she didn't really care. However, she immediately released her foot, despite the fact that it was still throbbing with pain—it was better to be on both feet than one if he were going to attack her.

They stood there, glaring at one another but without moving. Each of them was waiting for the other to make the first move, and none of them were willing to relinquish the false form of control they were holding.

Hermione briefly thought about using her wand but thought better of it—for the time being, it was better to not let him think about using magic because she was pretty sure that he wouldn't shy away from using darker curses that she had no idea about.

"There's nowhere you could run, Granger," he spoke quietly.

"Who said anything about running?" Hermione retorted.

His eyes glinted maliciously as his lips curved into a faint smirk. "Are you sure?"

"Of course," she blurted out before she could stop herself.

Oh, that look on his face did not make her feel safe at all. However, now that the words had already come out of her mouth, there was no way for her to take it back—or rather, her pride would not allow her to take it back.

"Excellent." The word slithered out of his lips, his tone of voice reminded her of a snake about to attack.

And then, he suddenly moved forward. With a squeak, she circled around the bed, so that she was still facing him but having an obstacle in between them.

"I thought you said you weren't going to run," he said, raising an eyebrow and his smirk turned mocking.

"This isn't running," she denied. "This is called avoiding capture."

"Is that so?" he asked.

He languidly allowed his eyes to flicker over the room, and Hermione could tell that he was doing it on purpose. The room was too small for her to keep up this game of cat and mouse for long and they both knew that.

"What, if I may ask, was that for?" he asked in a conversational tone of voice, though his eyes showed the true extent of his fury.

She had tons of reasons, but right on the top of the list was: "How did you know there was a strange, locked box in Ernsta's room?"

A flicker of amusement passed through his eyes so quickly that she almost missed it before he answered, "Legilimency."

It was such a simple answer that Hermione stared at him dumbfounded for a moment. "Legilimency?"

"How else would I know?" Tom asked. "Or—" A smirk appeared on his face. "—you were expecting me to be in her room for …  _ **other**_  reasons."

She did not answer that question, but she thinks that her silence was telling enough, since he chuckled.

"Are you jealous?" he asked.

"Why would I be jealous about some … some ridiculous, moronic— _ **stupid**_ , evil lady who wants to lay her hands all over any young man she could get them on?" she snapped.

"Oh?" He raised an eyebrow. "I was under the impression that that was the reason why you kicked me."

Her face turned red, and she opened and closed her mouth a couple of times before she said, "That was for killing Dietfried."

"I recall you confronting me about this five years ago," he said.

"And for framing Nicholas," she added hastily.

His eyes slightly narrowed upon hearing her words, and he slowly crossed his arms over his chest. "Oh yes, I've forgotten about your precious  _ **Nicholas**_."

"Oh, grow up, Riddle," she huffed. In a mocking voice, she asked, "Are you jealous?"

Instead of answering, he stepped forward, and she took a step back. Like a snake attacking its prey, he struck. His actions were so quick that she nearly didn't have time to react. However, her body seemed to have a mind of its own and responded before her brain did. With a lithe move, she was on top of the bed, and with another jump, she landed on her feet on the floor before she hurried towards the door.

She blindly grasped the doorknob and turned it, and a groan left her mouth—she had forgotten about the damned locking spells that he knew.

Her breath hitched when a single pale, long-fingered hand pressed against the door next to her face. His other arm snaked around her waist as his body pressed against hers. His breath brushed against her hair and earlobe as he spoke softly next to her ear.

"You are in deep trouble, Miss Granger."

Before she could say something in retort, he turned her around and one of his hands grasped her chin, pulling it upwards until she was staring into those dark eyes of his.

" _Legilimens_."

~-0-~

"Potter, do you  _ **mind**_?" Draco growled as he turned around in his makeshift bed and stared at where the Nuisance Who Lived should be laying. "Just in case you haven't noticed, we'd had a long enough day with hardly any sleep last night. Therefore, I would appreciate it if you would stay  _ **still**_  and let me  _ **sleep**_."

"Sorry," Harry muttered, much to Draco's surprise.

"What is your problem?" he asked, not understanding why he'd bothered to ask. Who cared if Pothead couldn't go to sleep?

A period of silence ensued, so long that Draco almost thought that Harry fell asleep.

"Sorry," he mumbled again.

Draco then heard the ruffling sounds of blankets moving, and Harry sat up and lit the candles in the room.

"It's just that … I'm worried about Hermione."

Draco heaved a sigh, turned over onto his back, and covered his eyes with his arm. "I don't see why you're so worried about her."

"She's all alone. In the room. With Riddle," Harry said.

"So? It's not like it's the first time," Draco pointed out.

“But—”  
  
Suddenly, a muffled yell interrupted their conversation. Draco removed his arm from his eyes and ogled at the wall where the sound had come from.  
  
“Tell me that wasn’t Riddle,” Harry whispered hoarsely.  
  
“You heard it, too?” Draco asked, his eyes wide.  
  
“I would be deaf not to hear that,” Harry answered. A strange expression was apparent on his face, as if he couldn’t make up his mind whether to laugh or be afraid.  
  
“Did she just hit Riddle? Again?” Ginny asked, awestruck.  
  
The three of them shared a look before an uneasy laugh left them. Okay, it wasn’t that Draco didn’t find it funny—he did. But if Granger managed to infuriate Riddle, said Dark Lord might find it a good idea to take it out on her friends, namely **_him_**. Draco did not fancy getting another Cruciatus session, and he was pretty sure that by now, Riddle would’ve thought of at least twenty different ways to make sure Hermione would never find out about it.  
  
“Maybe we ought to check though. What if that was Hermione? And if it weren’t, wouldn’t Riddle be really angry with her if she just hit him? Again?” Harry asked with a frown.  
  
“I don’t know, Potter. Judging from what happened at Dietfried’s house …” Draco said, trailing off.  
  
An uncomfortable silence fell over them, and both Harry and Ginny turned red. Draco hoped that he didn’t need to spell it out anymore for the two of them about what actually happened in that bathroom.  
  
“But it’s been five years already. What if things changed? What if Riddle doesn’t … care about her the way he used to?” Harry asked with some difficulty.  
  
“Yeah, I’m sure he doesn’t care about her anymore, which is why he felt the need to yank me off her and throw me in Abraxas’s arms. Not to mention the fact that he was all over her the moment we stepped back into the wacky future,” Draco muttered.  
  
Harry fell silent for a moment. “Okay, you do have a point there. But what if he’s angry about her? What if he thought that she was trying to run away from him or something and wanted to punish her for it?”  
  
“Potter, have you been reading Weaselette’s romance novels?” Draco asked with his eyebrow raised.  
  
“No,” Harry answered. “What does this have to do with that?”  
  
“It’s a recurring theme. Wizard meets witch; they fall in love; witch disappears for unknown reason; wizard turns all anguished and ‘evil,’ vowing to take over the world, become rich, or whatever and then create an intricate plan of revenge on said witch before finding out that he still loved her because the witch will always have a wonderful reason for leaving him the first place; and then they get married and live happily ever after,” Draco answered, squiggling his fingers at them on the word “evil.”  
  
“Hold on,” Ginny interrupted, and she stared at him. “How would **_you_** know about this?” The corner of her lips twitched. “Unless you’ve read them before.”  
  
A blush appeared on Draco’s face. “No. Way. Weaselette. Does it look like I read romance novels? I’m just saying—” he started to say, but he was interrupted by a muffled yelp, and the three of them stared at the wall again.  
  
“What was **_that_**?” Ginny asked.  
  
“Granger or Riddle,” Draco replied.  
  
“That sounded too high of a voice for Riddle,” Ginny said with a frown.  
  
“Oh, I don’t know,” Draco said. With a lower voice but an octave higher in tone voice, he said, “I speak now, Harry Potter, directly to you.”  
  
Both Gryffindors snorted upon hearing his imitation, and they all stopped when they heard a muffled “What are you doing?”  
  
Worry appeared on Harry’s face the moment he heard that. “But … it’s … what if he’s hurting her? I want to go see if she’s alright. I still have the invisibility cloak with me, so if his lackeys are standing outside, we can still hex them without them seeing us.”  
  
“Yeah, right, as if Riddle wouldn’t have thought of that already and warded the doors. Get real, Potter,” Draco said.  
  
“You don’t think he’d really … torture her, do you?” Ginny asked Harry carefully.  
  
“I don’t know, that’s why I want to make sure,” Harry said.  
  
“I’m not too sure it’s a good idea though, Potter,” Draco said.  
  
“Why not? Just because Riddle and Hermione are in a relationship, it doesn’t mean that he wouldn’t hurt her.” Harry furrowed his eyebrows.  
  
“Yeah, but isn’t it kind of normal between them? Remember when we were in Dietfried’s house and they were practically at one another’s neck? And then the next thing you know it, they were snogging one another like there’s no tomorrow,” Draco said, rolling his eyes. He then shivered. “I remember this one time when I walked into Father’s room, thinking that he was torturing Mum …”  
  
“Oh dear Godric, I do **_not_** need the mental image of Lucius and Narcissa Malfoy in that kind of situation,” Ginny groaned while Harry nodded in agreement, looks of disgust on both of their faces.  
  
“But really, I couldn’t sit on my arse for weeks after Father punished me for walking in on them,” Draco continued.  
  
“So … you’re saying …” Ginny swallowed. “Hermione’s … being ‘tortured’ in that way.”  
  
Draco nodded.  
  
“But I’m still worried about her,” Harry said.  
  
“Well, yeah, I’m more worried about her becoming the next darkest witch of the century, but to be honest, I’m not worried about her health,” Draco replied.  
  
“Don’t be stupid, Malfoy,” Harry said.  
  
“No, look here, Potter. I’m being completely serious. You know how she was like in the wacky future. If she becomes something like that, Merlin, I think I’d book the next Apparition schedule to Switzerland,” Draco answered.  
  
“Yes, because Switzerland wouldn’t be on Riddle’s list of ‘Countries to Conquer’ after he had Britain under control,” Ginny said wryly.  
  
“Good point,” Draco muttered as he ran a hand through his hair.  
  
“But that’s … impossible. Hermione? As the darkest witch of the century …” Harry trailed off.  
  
“That’s because you always see the good side of everyone, Mr. Let’s-Give-Everyone-A-Chance Potter,” Draco said.  
  
Their conversation was stalled again by a loud yell.  
  
“What the—”  
  
“Is that Riddle squealing?” Ginny asked, her face scrunched up in concentration.  
  
“Do you think she kneed him again?” Draco asked.  
  
“No, that sounds more like Hermione’s … He’s hurting her. He must be hurting her. It sounds different from the previous time she screamed—” Harry said frantically as they heard a second muffled yell.  
  
Draco perked up his ears and listened, his forehead creased into a frown. “Wait, Potter.”  
  
“What if—”  
  
“Hush, Potter,” Draco said with a frown.    
  
Another sound traveled through the thin barrier of a wall into their ears, and they gazed at one another again.  
  
“Was it just me, or did someone … er … just moan in there?” Ginny asked meekly.  
  
“I don’t know. That sounded like something between a moan and a yell,” Draco answered with a frown.  
  
“What if it’s some kind of new type of torturing spells that he developed?” Harry hissed.  
  
“Perhaps it’s custom-made for Hermione,” Draco said sarcastically.  
  
They fell silent again for a short time period before Harry spoke up again, “Do you hear anything?”  
  
“No …” Draco said before he climbed out of his bed and grabbed the glass on the table.  
  
“What are you doing?” Harry asked.  
  
“Shhh …” Draco whispered before placing the glass on the wall and pressing his ear against it.  
  
“Ohhhh …” they suddenly heard a moan from next door.  
  
Draco did not need more evidence; he knew exactly what this meant. Dropping the glass onto the floor like a hot potato, he rushed back to his bed. “O-kay. I hope we do not have to listen to this for the whole night. I do **_not_** need this or the mental images that accompany this,” he said, throwing the feeble blanket over his head and trying to block out the noise from next door.  
  
“What are you talking about, Malfoy?”  
  
Letting out an exaggerated sigh, Draco threw off the blanket again and sat up. “Potter, listen carefully, as in **_very_** carefully. She’s yelling, yes, but it’s not along the lines of ‘Help! Riddle’s trying to kill me!’ kind of yells,” he answered.  
  
“Hermione’s not the type to plead for help,” Harry contradicted.  
  
Potter was obviously trying to be stupid or he was just being in denial. Draco felt that it was probably both.  
  
“You were there when Aunt Bella tortured her. Do you think that she would really, really just yell like that?” he asked, waving his hand towards the wall that was doing a pretty job at keeping the noise-level next door down. “This is not a distress-filled scream.” He grimaced. “This is more like the ones Aunt Bella used to make.”  
  
“What does Bellatrix Les—oh,” Ginny said, and then her eyes widened. “ ** _Oh_**.”  
  
“What are you talking about?” Harry asked, confused.  
  
“You don’t want to know, Harry,” Ginny said quietly, her face turning red.  
  
“Let’s just put it this way,” Draco said, his smirk turning vicious at the prospect of making Harry squirm. “The Dark Lord stayed at one end of the manor while I stayed at the other end. Whenever Aunt Bella is … **_Summoned_** for reasons other than killing, torturing, et cetera, I could hear this kind of yells throughout the entire night. From my room. Though I have to say, Hermione’s probably a bit louder than Aunt Bella.”  
  
Harry and Ginny turned green upon hearing this but didn’t seem to want to rush next door and infuriate the young Dark Lord anymore. Draco let out a relieved sigh. At least he wasn’t going to be tortured for their stupidity. Well, yes, if they were going to go knock on Riddle’s door, he was definitely not going with that, but he would probably still get blamed for not trying to stop them.  
  
“So … Bellatrix … and … and Voldemort …” Ginny whispered after a long period of hush—minus the sounds coming from next door that was.  
  
“Yep,” Draco replied cheerfully, relishing at the disgust on Harry’s face.  
  
“The whole night,” Harry repeated.  
  
“Yep,” Draco answered.  
  
“That means we’d probably have to hear this for the whole night, too?” Harry asked.  
  
Oh. Draco hadn’t thought about that, and from the moans that were filtering through the wall, things seemed to be only at the beginning. “Er …”  
  
“Oh Merlin,” Ginny groaned, covering her face with her hands when another moan made it through the wall.  
  
“I do not need to hear this,” Harry said, scrunching his eyes together.  
  
“Complaining about your girlfriend’s skill now, Potter?” Draco asked.  
  
“Shut up, Malfoy,” Ginny and Harry said in unison.  
  
“Well, it’s obvious that they’re probably going to be at it for the whole night, so we probably can’t get sleep,” Draco said.  
  
“That doesn’t mean that you have to make tasteless, stupid jokes about it,” Ginny snapped.  
  
“Ohhh, grumpy. Did I mention a touchy subject?” Draco asked.  
  
Suddenly, a tortured yell traveled into their room, and Draco slapped his forehead with his hand.  
  
“We can probably assume that Hermione’s not being tortured then,” Ginny said slowly.  
  
“Depends on how you look at it,” Draco muttered as he ran his hands through his hair.  
  
“Shouldn’t we … do something about it?” Harry asked with uncertainty laced throughout his words.  
  
“Yeah, Potter, I would like to see you go and try to tell Riddle to keep it down,” Draco said wryly.  
  
Suddenly, another thought entered his mind, and he frantically glanced at the other two in the room.  
  
“You don’t think … you don’t think that Riddle’s trying to control Granger like this, do you?”  
  
“What?” Harry asked, perplexed.  
  
“With sex. You don’t think that he’s trying to control her like this, do you?” Draco pressed on.  
  
“Oh, don’t be stupid, Malfoy,” Harry said, brushing his comment off.  
  
“Potter, just because **_you_** don’t possess the skills necessary to manipulate women, it doesn’t mean that others don’t,” Draco sneered, and he could imagine Harry’s face turning red at that comment. He looked towards Ginny. “Thinking about trading places with Granger now, Weaselette?”  
  
Ginny narrowed her eyes at him. “What are you talking about?”  
  
“Don’t know, just thought that it looked like you figured that you’ve picked the wrong boyfriend after all,” Draco said with a shrug.  
  
A pebble hit him on the forehead.  
  
“Ow,” he hissed as he rubbed the place where he got hit. “I was just talking about the truth, Potty. It definitely sounds like she’s having more fun than your girlfriend did.”  
  
“Oh, shush, Malfoy. Like you’d ever heard the two of—” Ginny stopped speaking, perhaps realizing that she was saying too much.  
  
“Of course I did,” Draco said, not bothering to hide the gleeful smirk on his face. “Room of Requirement, remember?”  
  
“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” Ginny muttered as her face turned beet red.  
  
“You eavesdropped on us, ferret?” Harry demanded at the same time, the color of his face similar to that of Ginny’s.  
  
“Why would I do that, Potter? Like I’ve said, it’s not as if Weaselette here had as much fun anyway,” Draco said. “Besides, the room wouldn’t allow me to silence the two of you out. The two of you were too loud.” Then, as an afterthought, he added, “Though not as loud as these two.” He pointed towards their “next-door neighbors.”  
  
Weaselette seemed as if she wanted to find some **_burrow_** to hide in while Potter glanced off to the side, his face an even deeper shade of red by now.  
  
Sighing melodramatically, Draco looked at Harry. “What a pity.”  
  
Boy Wonder gazed at him cautiously. “What are you talking about now?”  
  
With a condescending smirk, he said, “After all those years of following the Dark Lord around, you failed to ask him to teach you the most important skill. Tsk, tsk, tsk.”  
  
“Oh, be quiet, ferret,” Harry snarled.  
  
“Perhaps we should try Silencing Charms,” Ginny suggested delicately as she pulled out her wand and casting the spell at the wall.  
  
They suddenly heard Hermione scream.  
  
The three of them promptly turned pale.  
  
“It’s not working. Why is the spell not working?” Harry asked.  
  
“Slytherin must’ve cast some spell to prevent other people’s spells from working,” Ginny said with a frustrated frown.  
  
They stared at one another, and even Draco could not crack another joke about their current condition.  
  
They were in for a long night.  


~-0-~

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **A/N** : Many thanks to my betas, Marauder's Wolf and Nerys!


	54. Chapter 54

****Chapter 54** **

" _Legilimens_."

He entered her mind before she could even think about how to stop him for doing so.

Walls were disintegrated before she could even build them up, and he invaded the corners of her mind, wrenching out any memory he wanted to and most of the memories she had wanted to keep a secret.

She would've screamed if she could the moment he touched upon memories from her futures—both the original and the wacky one. He went from thought to thought, emotions to emotions, and she felt herself reliving her worst nightmares as well as most embarrassing moments. As hard as she could, she tried to push him out, but he mercilessly brushed her aside, leaving her out of breath in the wake of his intrusion.

Mustering all the strength she could, she physically pushed him away, breaking off their eye contact. He seemed somewhat surprised by the turn of events but strangely made no move to use Legilimency on her again. Taking his surprise as her advantage, she shoved him again, this time with her feet and putting her whole weight on it, and successfully throwing him off the bed. Vicious satisfaction bubbled up upon hearing the sound of him hitting the floor and him yelling—she had no idea if it was from the pain or surprise, though she hoped it was both. However, that didn't last as long as she would like it to, due to the woozy feeling of after getting her mind invaded.

The moment she got her breathing back to a normal rate, she glared at the man who was responsible for it and had by now stood up. Though she had ended it prematurely, he had still gotten a good amount of memories from her mind. That smug smirk on his face pushed her over the edge, and without a second thought, she pushed herself off the bed, made her way over to him, and clamped her mouth on his shoulder, biting down hard.

A hiss of pain left his mouth and he grabbed her hair, trying to pull her away.

"Granger, you're much too fond of  ** _biting_** ," he growled.

Yeah, and that wasn't the only thing she was fond of. The moment she released him from her bite, her knee went upwards, nearly successful in hitting its target. However, he suddenly lifted his leg, and her lower leg crashed into his knee. A pain-filled cry left her mouth, and tears sprung to her eyes. Before she could crouch down to rub the spot where she had gotten injured, he swirled her around and shoved her towards the wall, restricting her hands and legs with his own.

"Let go of me, you prick!" she yelled, struggling against his hold. "How dare you enter my mind like that? How dare you use Legilimency on me?"

A derisive snort left his lips before his mocking gaze landed on her. "Did I need a written permission for that then?"

She growled out of frustration and continued fighting against him, trying her best to get out of his hold. She was going to kill him—no, that would be an easy out for him. She was going to rip his hair out one by one until his head resembled the one he'd have in the future and then flay him alive. How dare he intrude upon her privacy like that?

However, her ideas for his punishment could only remain inside her mind, since he was physically stronger than her.

"Let go of me!" she screamed.

"No," he said coldly.

It made her even more exasperated that he seemed to be restraining her effortlessly. Finally, she ran out of strength and couldn't do anything but fix her glare on him, all the while panting.

"Are you finally done?" he asked coolly.

For now, yes. If they were going to stay in the same bedroom, she would have plenty of chances to get back at him, and the longer it took her to get vengeance, the better her plans would evolve.

Of course, it wasn't the first time he had used Legilimency on her. However, this time included memories from the original  ** _and_** the wacky future. She had no idea which one she wanted to keep a secret more, but all in all, her anger and embarrassment had reached an all-time high. It was to the point that she hadn't even had the chance to wonder about what happened to the mental wall that had prevented Tom from sifting through memories about the future before.

"If you attempt to hurt me again, Hermione, once I've released you, I will put you under a Full Body Bind for the rest of the night," he said quietly. "I assume that I wouldn't need to tell you precisely how uncomfortable it will be after being under that spell for an entire night."

Her lips thinned, and she refused to give him the satisfaction of hearing an answer from her. He raised an eyebrow at her silence. She mimicked his action, a daring look in her eyes. The corners of his mouth curled upwards into a sneer.

"Well, if you prefer to have me put you under the spell now—"

"Fine," she said in a forced voice. "I won't try to hurt you tonight."

She could wait until after midnight.

His expression was indecipherable, and Hermione wouldn't be surprised if he knew what she was thinking. Nonetheless, he didn't say anything.

Instead, he slowly moved away from her, and the moment she was free, she bent down to look at her leg. A grimace appeared on her face when she saw just how bad the injury was. No wonder she felt a throbbing pain after so long. It was no longer just black and blue; the spot had swollen to the size of an egg. She reached over to her robes—which had ended up on the chair after he'd made it disappear—fished out her wand, and quickly cast a healing charm over it.

All the while, Tom wore a look of deep thought on his face. After she placed her wand back in the pocket and stood up again, his eyes snapped over to her.

"You and Potter knew about the Horcruxes," he said quietly.

Oh right. Well, it didn't exactly take a genius to guess that  ** _that_** would be the first thing he would question her about. However, she wasn't exactly too worried about what would happen to his "fragile heart, mind, and soul" upon knowing that she had taken part in the Horcrux hunt when he first entered her mind.

"You  ** _assisted_** him in destroying them," he continued, fury slowly pricking holes into his seemingly calm exterior.

Instead of scaring her, his anger triggered something inside of Hermione, and she narrowed her eyes at him.

"Yes, I did," she spat out.

"How  ** _dare_**  you? The  ** _nerve_** of you and Pot—"

"How dare I? How  ** _dare I_**?" Hermione screeched, her eyes becoming mere slits as she stomped up to him and poked her finger into his chest, disregarding the irritation that was flowing off him in waves. " ** _Don't_**  give me that crap, Riddle. If you're looking for some kind of remorse, then you better search somewhere else because I'm the last person you're going to find that in. How dare I?" She let out a derisive sound. "Nearly every single one of  ** _your_**  bloody Horcrux tried to kill Harry and me, and you have the nerve to interrogate  ** _me_** about the load of shit you drew yourself into?"

He seemed slightly taken aback by what she said; the small part of her mind that wasn't overcome by rage realized that this was probably due to the amount of information that one could get through Legilimency. If he'd spent more time sifting through her mind, of course he would eventually know every memory that was stored there. However, she estimated that he had only been in there for less than five minutes. So he did get memories, but most of them were not in detail.

"If you hadn't tried to destroy them—"

"Oh, that's fresh," she mocked, rolling her eyes to the ceiling. "Did you think that your Horcruxes were just lying around like some kind of fancy accessory? Your diary Horcrux nearly killed me back in second year when I had  ** _no_**  idea what the hell a Horcrux was. It set your blasted pet snake on me and if  ** _I_**  hadn't found out that it was a basilisk beforehand and held a mirror in my hand, I would've been dead by now! Destroy them, of course I would've wanted to destroy them! Are you telling me that you wouldn't attack first if you knew that you were basically number one on the list to get killed? Not to mention that your  ** _lovely_**  Horcrux nearly got Ginny killed back then."

"Granger, they happened in  ** _your_**  timeline. You've already acknowledged that the future had been changed, so these events are not going to happen," he pointed out.

"So now it's events that 'are not going to happen.'" She stared at him, her irritation hardly abating. "Just in case you haven't noticed,  ** _you_**  were the one who started this stupid blaming session."

She knew the argument could be over now, judging from his softening features. He presumably realized that in this timeline, they weren't given incentives to destroy his precious soul pieces. However, she was hardly done from ranting about his stupid Horcruxes. After all, she had had to go through hell because of them.

"And should I repeat every single wretched thing that locket of yours whispered in my head every night when I was wearing it? 'Always waiting to get noticed by the others, but you know you'll never measure up to them. Did you really think that Potter and Weasley would've become your friend if they didn't need you to check their homework for them? Did you really think you're  ** _that_**  important to Potter? Look at who was chosen as Potter's most important possession for the Triwizard Tournament. The two of them care less about you than an  ** _acquaintance_**  from Bulgaria. It really shows how  ** _inadequate_**  you really are. You've never been into Harry and Ronald's heads. I've seen what they think about you. They will never tell you. Do you want to know what they think? Did you really think that my Death Eaters and I were the only ones who frown upon the impurity of blood?'" she said, adopting a chipmunk-like voice for the Horcrux's words. "Well, haha! Guess who you're  ** _frolicking_** with now, moron."

Amusement flashed through his eyes. "It said that to you?"

"You think it's funny?" she hissed, her hands clenching up into fists. "You think it's  ** _funny_** , Riddle?"

He did not answer, but the way he was gazing at her said enough. Without thinking, she swung her fists at him, which he caught easily.

"Tsk, tsk, tsk. Resorting to your unworthy Muggle ways again, my little Mudblood?" he asked, completely enjoying himself.

She growled and tried to wrench her wrists out of his hands. She was just about to stomp on his foot when he swirled the two of them around, causing her to lose balance. Without warning, the both of them fell into the bed, with him on top of her.

"Get. Off. Me.  ** _Now_** ," she said warningly.

"I kind of like the position I am in right now," he said, propping up his head with his hand with that infuriating smirk plastered to his face. "Did you forget what I've said about what would happen if you attacked me again tonight?"

She stared at him with a stubborn look on her face but did not answer him.

He raised an eyebrow at her lack of response, and seconds later, his expression changed to a serious one. "Now, first things first, I can be lenient enough to let some … events that will no longer occur pass."

His words made her mouth drop open out of disbelief. How could someone be so absolutely infuriating? Did he really think that she cared about how "lenient" he could be?

"But I want answers, and you will give them to me."

"After going through my mind without my permission and trying to guilt-trip me about your Horcruxes, do you think that I'm up for a questioning session, too?" she snapped.

"You will answer my questions, if you know what's good for you, Hermione," he said.

"I'm  ** _not_** helping you with anything," she said, her voice as hard as her gaze.

"I'm not asking you to help me with anything. I just want to know … something very simple," he said.

She narrowed her eyes at him. "I. Am. Not. Helping. You."

"You're not the one with the bargaining chip, Hermione. Either you tell me why the future me felt the need to kill Potter or I'll just do things without taking your silly emotions into consideration."

Her temper flared, and staring at him straight in the eye, she hissed, "If you hurt Harry, trust me, I will kill you with my bare hands, with magic or not, incapacitated or not."

Something flashed through his eyes, and much to her surprise, his lips curved slightly upwards.

"Answer my questions truthfully, and I will consider not hurting Potter unless he provokes me to do so," he said.

"Not a chance, Riddle. Do you think that I'm so stupid that I can't see a million loopholes in that promise?" she asked.

"Don't make me do this the hard way, Hermione," he warned, his voice soft and dangerous at the same time.

"I'll gouge out my eyes before I allow you to see into my mind again," Hermione threatened through gritted teeth.

"Did you think that Legilimency can only be performed on people who have eyes, Hermione?" he scoffed.

"No, but it's much easier for me to hide the information you want to find," Hermione said triumphantly, "and it's much harder for you to navigate the mind without direct eye contact. Not to mention the fact that it takes years and years of practice for a wizard to perform that kind of high level Legilimency."

His eyes slightly narrowed, but his expression remained masked. "Are you suggesting that I've been lax in practicing the art?"

She snorted. "Like you haven't been using it to make sure that your followers weren't planning some kind of revolution against you." She paused. "I know that you know how to perform Legilimency nonverbally, but you still perform it verbally every once in a while, so clearly, you haven't mastered it to the point where you're completely comfortable with it. Therefore, I doubt it will be easy for you to use it without eye contact yet. Not to mention that you didn't immediately perform Legilimency on me after I shoved you away. That proves that there's still room for improvement in your Legilimency skills."

The moment an irritated expression flashed through Tom's face, she knew she was right, and a sense of relief swept through her. At least she had one less thing to worry about now.

Until he did completely master Legilimency, that was.

She would have to worry Harry and the others in private, too, just in case Tom decided to turn his attention towards them instead.

"Most of your arguments are mere assumptions," Tom said slowly, schooling his face once more. "Performing spells verbally does not necessarily equate inability to perform said spells nonverbally." He tilted his head to one side. "I'm pretty sure you know that I can perform the Cruciatus Curse proficiently nonverbally, yet I still choose to say the incantation out loud."

"You know perfectly well that those are two different spells by nature," she retorted in what Ron used to call her "know-it-all voice." "With the Cruciatus Curse, the strength of the curse is increased by reciting the incantation, even if the caster happens to be highly skilled in that curse, while with Legilimency, the incantation is the least important factor in determining the strength of the magic. What's important is the expertise of the caster—"

"Granger, I don't need  _The Strengths and Weaknesses of Legilimency_ recited to me," he snapped as he got off her.

A smirk appeared on Hermione's face as she sat up on the bed. "Oh, did I hit a nerve there?"

He narrowed his eyes, his irritation going up another notch. Hm … it was probably not a good idea to make him overly angry right now. If the time travelers were only dealing with Tom, though she was not necessarily saying that they would defeat him, they could at least attempt to get away unscathed. As it was, he had his Knights with him, and the time travelers were greatly outnumbered. So, nope, it was definitely not a good idea to annoy him too much right now. Additionally, they still had to worry about a certain German Dark Lord who was waiting to use them as something to turn Meinhardt against Dumbledore.

He remained silent for a while, and Hermione was grateful about that. She really did not need him interrogating her, though by now, she was pretty certain that his mind had moved on to how to get information out of the other three time travelers. She wasn't overly worried about Harry or Ginny because Tom would have a hard time trying to get answers out of Harry, and she doubted Harry would let Ginny face Tom by herself anytime soon. Draco, however, was a completely different case. She would have to take extra care to look after the Slytherin.

"So … Professor Riddle," Tom suddenly said, catching her attention.

Annoyance and embarrassment stirred inside of her, especially since he didn't even bother to keep the amusement out of his voice.

"Yes," she answered stonily.

"And you didn't even bother to tell Ronald about our … rendezvouses," he said with a chuckle.

"That was  ** _not_** me," Hermione denied through gritted teeth.

"Oh yes. I'm sure that's not you at all. That's why you have those memories that were supposed to be  ** _Hermione Granger's_** memories," Tom said wryly.

"You tricked me, you prat," she hissed. "If I had known it was you—"

"You would've fallen for me anyway," he interrupted gleefully. Then, in a high, shrilly voice which strangely reminded Hermione of herself, he said, "Oh, I'm so happy that the Dark Lord is going to let me follow beside him after I leave Hogwarts. Can you believe that the Dark Lord knows so many things about magic? I wished I knew half of what the Dark Lord does!"

The urge to go back on her promise was strong. Very, very strong. Nonetheless, she clenched her teeth together and contented herself with glaring at him.

With his free hand, he slid a single finger down the length of her arm.

"What a surprise," he said dryly, "no answers from the Gryffindor know-it-all."

She nibbled on her lower lip, not jumping to his bait. He was just trying to get a rise out of her, and she was not going to give him that kind of satisfaction.

A single hand ran through her hair, playing with strands of it, as he monitored the expressions flashing through her face. A strange feeling of calmness washed through her, and she wondered for a moment if he had used magical ways to accomplish that. However, she soon realized that it was because of the peculiar sense of security she'd always felt when he was near her. It was mind-boggling, to say the least, since she doubted it was normal to feel safe near Lord Voldemort.

Pushing away thoughts about the absurdity of the situation she was in right now, she decidedly changed the subject.

"You didn't seem surprised to see the four of us today," Hermione said slowly, eying him with uncertainty.

"After you disappeared in front of me?" Tom asked, raising an eyebrow at her.

She relaxed upon hearing his answer; she had been worried that he might hold a grudge against her, since she didn't get a chance to explain to him before Slytherin sent her back to the future. Though the future Lord Voldemort didn't, it could have been because fifty years had passed.

However, the lazy tone of voice he had adopted right now showed that he did not place the blame on her. So, she nodded.

He didn't answer immediately, and Hermione could tell that he was thinking about something, but she wondered why.

"It can't be that hard to tell me the answer, could it?" she asked, raising her eyebrows at him.

A corner of his lips tugged upwards. "That depends."

She rolled her eyes. "Well, I doubt letting me know why you aren't surprised could hardly give me any clues about what you have planned to take over the world."

He let out an exaggerated sigh. "I was just trying to think of way to convey how absolutely distraught I was after I lost you. Haven't you realized how devastating an experience it is to watch someone you  ** _love_** —"

Hermione snorted loudly, but that hardly hindered him in his dramatic act.

"—disappear in front of you? I've spent so many nights thinking about how forlorn I am, how absolutely cruel it was for you to leave me all alone in the past by myself," he said, the perfect look of grief on his face.

"Oh, grow up, Riddle," she huffed, though she couldn't keep out the amusement from her voice or face.

"Don't you believe me?" he asked, widening his eyes.

Hermione gazed at his stricken expression, and she came to a conclusion: This man could win the BAFTA if he were a Muggle actor.

"Nope," she answered cheerfully.

His free hand came to a rest on his chest. "I'm hurt. Aren't you afraid that I might go into the nearest Muggle town now and massacre the lot of them to relieve myself of this atrocious agony that you have caused with your mere words?"

"Like you haven't thought about it before," she jeered.

"Now that you've mentioned it, no, actually I haven't," he replied. "That isn't really why I've come here this time."

"Oh, I know," Hermione said, a smirk on her face. "You were  ** _so_**  horribly devastated about the person you  ** _love_** —"

This time, it was Tom's turn to snort.

"—disappearing in front of you that you've decided to find solace in Grindelwald's embrace," she finished.

Tom raised an eyebrow. "Are you suggesting that I'm … attracted to him?"

"Well, I have to say that you have pretty good taste if you are," she said teasingly.

"Then unfortunately, the one with 'pretty good taste' is your favorite Transfiguration professor, not me," he said wryly.

Hermione grinned but did not answer as her mind drifted over to said professor. Was Dumbledore in Germany, too? The history books in the wacky timeline only touched upon the subject about Grindelwald and Tom's duel; nothing was mentioned about Dumbledore. She wondered if he were there— ** _here_**. However, she doubted Tom would be willing to share this information; he would have one less object to hold over their heads.

Well, she would find out sooner or later. The date of the duel shouldn't be too far off; her main concern right now should be how to get the Elder Wand before Tom did. Fortunately, he was more interested in knowing about what happened in the original timeline and the wacky timeline. Somehow, the Elder Wand slipped through the crack. Or perhaps he'd thought that there were no ways for them to get it, now that they were in his "clutches." Nonetheless, he had not seen anything about her plans to get the Elder Wand before he did, and for that, she was glad.

"You still haven't told me why you weren't surprised to see us," she reminded him.

"I knew you were going to come back, though … you were merely two years later than what I had anticipated," he answered, annoyance seeping into his expression once again.

So that was why he appeared irritated when she informed him that they came back two weeks ago. He had thought that they would've arrived in 1948—

Wait a second.

"How did you know we were going to come back to the past? You killed Slytherin, and there's no one else—"

Hermione stopped in her words as the pieces clicked into place in her mind and a smirk replaced the look on his face.

"Found the answer?" he asked sweetly.

"You traveled into the future?" She narrowed her eyes.

"You didn't expect me to sit here and do nothing at all, did you?" he asked in return.

Her mouth dropped open, and she stared at him in disbelief. It took a moment before she recomposed herself, but she could hardly leave the incredulity out of her voice or off her face.

"You traveled into the future! What were you thinki—no,  ** _were you even thinking_**?" she screeched. She took a deep breath before she continued, "Do you have any idea what could have happened? The whole future—"

"Would've changed again," Tom finished her sentence for her and successfully stopping her rant. "You do realize that it's kind of hypocritical for you to tell me this when you and your little band of friends out there did the same thing. Twice, might I add."

"We didn't travel back in time on purpose!" she protested. "And we tried our best to prevent ourselves from making too many changes in history—"

This caused a snort to escape Tom. "Oh really? Mind enlightening me about the similarities between the future you've returned to and the one you originally came from?"

She opened her mouth and snapped it shut again, causing a smirk to appear on his face.

"My point exactly. You've already changed the future to one that no longer resembles the one you came from. My guess is that your presence in the past is causing more change to history than my presence in the future. After all, I have no idea what actions I'd taken to end up in my situation in the year 2000. You, however, are a completely different case," he said, sliding a single digit down her cheek.

"Might I remind you that you were the one who sent me back in time this time," she said through gritted teeth.

He looked at her, amused. "You didn't seem too unhappy to see me again."

"That's beside the point," she grumbled. "Do you know how ridiculously horrendous it is to be placed through that stupid spell?  ** _And_** we had to stay in the snow for nearly an hour."

"Oh yes. Slytherin did mention somewhere in his time traveling book about certain … undesirable consequences of being placed through that spell. Fortunately, that doesn't apply to those who cast the spell," he said.

She glared at him. "Do you mean to say that  ** _you_**  didn't have to suffer from those consequences when  ** _you_** traveled into the future?"

"Yes."

A frustrated growl escaped Hermione's lips followed by a string of curse words for a certain Hogwarts's Founder, causing Tom to chuckle.

"Quite a bit of pent-up anger there," he commented.

"You shouldn't have killed him so easily. You should've locked him up and tortured him for days before offing him," she hissed.

A surprised expression fleeted over Tom's face. "Are you sure, oh great supporter of house-elf welfare?"

"House-elves  ** _deserve_** better treatment," Hermione said stubbornly, strongly reminded of the conversation she had had with the wacky future's Voldemort. She glared at him, as if daring him to disagree with her. When he didn't say anything, she continued, "Salazar Slytherin, on the other hand, is a right, foul git that deserves all kinds of torture methods used on him. I could've forgiven him for the three, consecutive days of white bread and the animal-cage-like prison, but to put us through that time traveling spell when he could've made it more comfortable for us—"

"Actually, he couldn't have made it more comfortable. He was perfecting the spell to travel through time, not to help others travel through time," he explained, interrupting her rant.

Hermione frowned, remembering that Dumbledore had mentioned that "Konrad Feierabend" studied quite a bit about time traveling. "Some obsession he has there for time travel."

A derisive snort left Tom. "Of course. That was how he was cheating Death."

"What?"

"Haven't you worked it out yet?" he asked. "Meadowes wasn't spewing out nonsense or making up fairytales when she wrote about why Slytherin might be alive. There had been numerous accounts about Slytherin throughout the entire world. He'd travel far and wide to find a method to become immortal."

"Why didn't he just used Horcruxes?" Hermione asked somewhat mockingly as she looked at Tom.

He glanced at her briefly, annoyed that she was having fun at his expense. "Because he claimed there are still disadvantages to using Horcruxes."

"Mm-hm," she said, unable to stop herself.

"Granger," he said warningly.

"Just agreeing with his assessment," she answered with a grin. "So … how does he avoid Death with time travel?"

As far as she knew, Harry, Ginny, Draco, and she could still die, and other people who were known to have traveled through time had died, so simply traveling through time couldn't possibly prevent death.

After shooting her another look to let her know that he was still irritated by her "agreement," he said, "He cheated Death, more than once actually. He would only stay in a certain time period and area for a limited amount of time because if he stayed in an area for too long, Death would eventually find him. Therefore, he would travel through time and space to somewhere where he wouldn't run into a previous self or a future self."

"So that was why he insinuated that he wouldn't kill me: If he killed me, Death would've traced the death back to him," Hermione deduced.

"Or Death would've seen him when it came to claim your soul," Tom said.

"Ugh, how tiresome would that be, to travel throughout time every other day. Adjusting to a new area is hard enough, let alone a whole different time period," Hermione commented with a wrinkle of her nose.

"It's the price of immortality," he replied with a faint smile.

"Which, unfortunately, got ruined by his precious heir," Hermione said with a snort.

"Unfortunately," he echoed, the smile morphing into a smirk.

"Again, too bad you've killed him off already or else I would so taunt him about him being the reason why I came back yet again," she said, narrowing her eyes as if Slytherin were standing right in front of her. "So much for trying to keep the filthy, disgusting Mudblood away from his precious heir."

"Oh, I'm sure he died realizing that he'd died in vain. After all, he knew that I knew where his books were, or rather, he realized that once he was dead, there was no one to stop me from 'visiting' his personal library here."

"Well, you would've thought that after  ** _fifty_** years, you could've made the time traveling spell a little more comfortable," Hermione said, annoyed again.

Tom shrugged. "I wasn't the one time traveling."

Hermione growled, causing him to laugh.

When he looked back at her, there was a contemplative look in his eyes, throwing her off. Then, he spoke, almost as if to himself rather than to her. "How easy it is for you to prevent the birth of someone you despise … how easy it is for you to gain power, using the knowledge you know about the future …"

The implications behind his words shocked her. For a moment, she couldn't even bring herself to say anything as she gawked at him.

"Oh, don't look at me like that," he said, rolling his eyes to the ceiling, before she could speak. "You're acting as if I might jump at the next opportunity to travel back into the past."

"I wouldn't put it past you," she blurted out.

"As enticing as the idea of killing an infant Dumbledore is …" he trailed off and a smirk appeared on his face.

A wave of relief washed over Hermione when she realized that this probably meant that he wouldn't try to change things in time. However, her curiosity was also piqued because of this.

"Afraid that you'd get defeated by a one-year-old?" she taunted, the irony of her words causing an amused glint to pass through her eyes.

He narrowed his eyes at her, displeasure apparent on his features. "Granger …"

She knew she was treading on a thin line here. After all, she had no idea why he hadn't tried to change things around throughout history. Nonetheless, she was betting that there must be something stopping him, since he  ** _didn't_** try.

"Why else wouldn't you want to travel back in time to kill him off? After all, we all know that  ** _he's_** the only one you're afraid of," Hermione said.

She allowed a small smirk to linger at the corner of her lips, hoping that it was enough to provoke him to speak.

"Afraid of him?" he asked, his eyes narrowing noticeably. "As if Lord Voldemort would ever be afraid of a miserable, old fool like him. He is nothing in my eyes, especially with his less than desirable  ** _morals_**. His need to follow the unnecessary rules would prohibit him to excel in areas that he could've if he'd allowed himself to let go. His inability to do that proves that he would never surpass me—"

"Yeah, yeah, yeah, we've heard that rant a million times already, greatest sorcerer in the world," Hermione cut in, adding a tint of mockery at the end of the sentence. "You still haven't managed to kill him in the future."

It annoyed her thoroughly that he was busy ranting instead of giving her the answer. However, she could only beat around the bush, since asking him outright would most likely not give her any answers.

He raised his eyebrow at her comment and smirked. "Granger, I'm pretty sure that I  ** _had_** killed Dumbledore in the future."

"After more than fifty years later," she sniggered. "Not to mention that Professor  ** _Snape_** was the one who killed Dumbledore in the original timeline, not you."

He fell silent as he eyed her quietly. The way he was looking at her struck her as strange, and unconsciously, she avoided his eyesight, even though she knew it was a bad idea to do so.

"Nice try, Granger," he said silkily as he played with a lock of her hair. "You could've just asked me why I'm not willing to change things throughout the timeline, you know?"

Her cheeks burned, yet she tilted her head a bit higher. "Who'd ever said that I would be interested in knowing why? I never considered your logic to be a normal one. For all I knew, you could've been afraid of changing the past because it might've prevented you from becoming Snakeface." A snort and a roll of her eyes ended her sentence.

"Now that's a devastating thought," he said, though Hermione could not tell if he were joking or being truthful.

"I happen to like this face," she said.

He raised an eyebrow. "You never had a problem kissing, I quote, 'Snakeface.'"

Discomfort caused her to shift in her position, when suddenly, it hit her, and a grin appeared on her face.

His eyes slightly narrowed when he noticed the look on her face. "Granger …"

"I know why you're unwilling to change Dumbledore's past," she said in a sing-song voice.

"Granger, you're just speculating—"

"Nope, I'm pretty sure that I'm correct in thinking what I'm thinking," she said with a shake of her head. "You're afraid that if you changed anything in the past, your whole future would've changed, exactly like what happened to the four of us. Killing Dumbledore would've caused an immense change in your future. He was the one who visited you in the orphanage. If it had been someone else, you weren't sure if they would've reacted the same way Dumbledore had. From what I've heard, he suspected you after he went to the orphanage to talk to you about magic,  ** _but_**  he was also discreet about his suspicions. If it were someone else, you weren't sure if you could've gotten the same treatment. They might've spread your weirdness like some kind of headline news from the  _Daily Prophet_. Not to mention that you've also realized that after changing the past, it's quite possible that you might travel a couple of years forward or a couple of years backward in time. So you didn't want to take that risk."

Though he was sporting that indecipherable look on his face again, Hermione was pretty sure that she was correct in her assumptions. It made sense—well, even if it weren't the correct answer, it could also serve as a warning to Tom against making changes in the past. After all, he did travel into the future, so he knew how different things could be with a single change in the past. That was also perhaps why he had chosen to travel into the future instead of the past—because the past could not be affected by the future.

There was a risk of ending up in the wrong year when he traveled back to the past from the future, of course, but she was guessing that there was a way to set up some kind of anchor in the past so that he would end up in the right year. However, the same thing couldn't happen for when he traveled into the past because if the past changed, so would the future.

She wondered, however, why it seemed like he was hesitant in sharing this information. Perhaps he was afraid that she might use that as something over his head when he didn't do something her way in the future? Nonetheless, there was one thing she was sure about: The book by Slytherin that contained the time traveling spell would most likely be burned before she could see it.

"No book burning," she blurted out before she could stop herself.

Tom blinked as he furrowed his eyebrows. "Pardon?"

"No. Book. Burning," she repeated herself with emphasis on each word.

"Who'd ever said anything about burning books?" he asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Well, you, unlike I, don't seem like the kind of person who would hesitate in burning books just to contain secrets," Hermione replied.

"Well, I, unlike you, don't find it necessary to take unnecessary precautions," he replied, his tone mocking.

"Unnecessary?" she asked, raising her eyebrows and ignoring his jab.

"Only the direct descendants of Slytherin can access the information held within the books," he answered.

"That didn't happen with the books in the Chamber of Secrets," she pointed out.

"Granger, those books were guarded by a basilisk, which wouldn't have been killed by Potter out there or Longbottom if they hadn't had a piece of my soul within them," he said, an annoyed expression flashing over his face again.

"Not by their choice," she said with a smirk.

Frustration caused his eyes to narrow only slightly, and the next moment, he sealed her lips with his. She was hardly going to argue against that because despite the lighthearted way with which she had answered him, the last part of their conversation reminded of something important that she had to attend to the moment she could:

She had to find a way to screw up that stupid prophecy.

~-0-~

"What happened to you lot?" was the first thing that came out of Hermione's mouth the moment she saw her fellow time traveling companions.

Each of them had enormous bags under their eyes, and it seemed as if they were ready to fall off their seats into deep slumber any second.

"In case you haven't noticed, Granger, you weren't exactly quiet as mice last night," Draco said, and he promptly snapped his mouth shut the moment Tom swept into the kitchen.

Oh shit. They could not possibly have heard …

Guilt and embarrassment caused heat to travel up to her cheeks, and she bowed her head apologetically. She was so going to kill Tom for not putting up the Silencing Charm on the walls.

"Sorry."

After a quick breakfast—during which Hermione glared at Tom, who replied with an annoying smirk—Tom left, presumably to speak with his Knights, and the four time travelers were left to speak in private once again. As a precaution, Hermione and Harry immediately started placing up different spells to prevent others from listening into their conversation and to alert them when someone was getting close.

"Tom might try to get information out of the three of you, so you lot better be careful about that," Hermione told them immediately after they sat down. "He … tried to use it on me last night, but he didn't manage to get all the information he wanted."

"He  ** _used_**  Legilimency on you?" Harry asked, alarmed.

"Potter, you're saying it as if he used the Cruciatus on her," Draco said.

"With him, that's the next possibility," Harry pointed out.

"Then, there'll be only one outcome," Draco said solemnly.

Hermione, Harry, and Ginny stared at him.

"Oh, come on. The answer's obvious," Draco said, rolling his eyes. "She'll just knee him  ** _there_**  again."

Harry snorted while Hermione narrowed her eyes at the blond.

"You're joking? In the situation we're in right now?" she demanded.

"Well, what else are we supposed to do? Riddle would sooner use the Cruciatus Curse on the three of us than use it on you, so I don't see what Potter is worried about," Draco replied.

"I'm  ** _not_**  going to let him use the Cruciatus on the three of you," Hermione vowed.

"I'd like to see you try, Granger. It's not like he really needs your permission, is it? And besides, I doubt he's going to Cruciate Potter and Weaselette here, since he knows that the two of them would fight back. Me, however …" Draco trailed off.

Hermione sighed. "That's why I needed to remind the three of you about the possibility of him using Legilimency on the three of you. I know that Harry could keep an eye on himself and Ginny. You, on the other hand … I'll have to keep an extra eye on you, and you'll have to remember to keep your Occlumen—"

"Wait," Draco cut in. "You mean, you're going to keep an extra eye on me? As in, keeping your attention on me? No. Way. That'll get me a Cruciatus session sooner than you can say 'stop.' No, you'd better stay away from me Granger, especially when Riddle's around. I'll stick closer to Potter."

Harry looked as if he wanted to protest but stopped himself. After thinking about it for a moment, Hermione felt that Draco did have a point. Hopefully, however, the two of them could keep things civil enough so that Tom wouldn't use that as a way to lure Draco away from Harry.

"How are we ever going to get the Elder Wand now? I doubt he's going to let us out of his sight," Harry asked.

"The problem isn't how we're going to get the Elder Wand; it's how we're going to get the Elder Wand without him knowing. I don't fancy having him hunt us down for the rest of our lives, thank you very much," Draco said with a shiver.

"Oh, please—" Ginny started to say with a roll of her eyes.

"I'm dead serious here, Weaselette. I'm really starting to wonder if we're going down the right path. Did you see how he dueled with Grindelwald yesterday? I don't want to be the one standing at the end of his wand; I've been there far too many times as it is," he said. "Courage is a Gryffindor trait and I prefer to let it stay like that."

"Do you really think our future wouldn't be grim if he gets the Elder Wand? You do recall what he did to your parents, in both the original and the wacky timeline," Ginny pointed out.

"Do you think I'll get to even see my parents again if he suspects that I'm breaking down what he's trying to build?" Draco asked incredulously.

"But—" Ginny started to say.

"Draco's right," Hermione spoke up, surprising both of them. "Not the part about staying back and doing nothing. But like we've said before, we can't let him know what we're planning if we can help it. So far, I can't foresee any chances of escaping his scrutiny without raising his suspicions. We'd have to plan as we go along. However, we do have one advantage in this whole thing."

"Advantage? I don't see any at all," Draco grumbled, running his hands through his hair.

"In the worst scenario, we will have to let him know that we are the ones who mastered the Elder Wand. However, immediately after that, we will have to transfer the ownership. In secret."

It took a moment for her idea to sink into Harry, Ginny, and Draco's mind. However, the moment it did, a bright smile appeared on Harry's face.

"Brilliant, Hermione," he said.

Draco, on the other hand, gawked at her. "You're insane."

"No, she's bloody brilliant," Harry refuted. "You know, you were once the owner of the Elder Wand—"

" ** _What_**?" Draco screeched, his face turning paler than usual. "No, I was not."

"Yes, you were," Harry answered with a grin. "You've gotten the ownership of the wand from Dumbledore."

"No, I didn't," Draco said.

"Yes, you were. That's how  ** _I_**  became the owner of the wand. Haven't we told you how that happened? Because I took your wand away from you in Malfoy Manor. That was when the ownership was transferred over to me. That was something Riddle never counted on," Harry explained.

"No way. You're hallucinating, Potter. I have  ** _nothing_**  to do with that wand, nothing at all," Draco said. "And if Riddle asks me, I'm telling him the same. I have  ** _nothing_**  to do with that wand at all."

"Anyway, I think your plan might just work out, Hermione," Harry said, looking back at her and ignoring the now babbling blond.

"Am I the only one seeing about twenty thousand things wrong about that plan? Did you forget what he did to people who stood in his way to the wand?" Draco pointed out.

Hermione sighed and gazed at him. "No, I haven't. How could I forget? But it's also a risk that must be taken."

~-0-~

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **A/N** : Many thanks to my betas, MaraudersWolf and Nerys!


	55. Chapter 55

**Chapter 55**

For two days, Tom and his Knights did absolutely nothing.

Well, they did have an occasional meeting, and of course, Hermione had no idea what they discussed during said meetings. However, she would've thought that they would've done something more physical, such as sending a couple of the Knights out to find out news and information. They didn't even practice dueling as much as she thought they would.

Of course, their nonchalance—or at least, pretense of nonchalance—meant that sneaking away from Slytherin's cabin was near impossible. Every time she looked out the window, she would find future Death Eaters chatting a small distance away from the cabin. She'd gone out a couple of times, just to check if there was some kind of loophole in their surveillance, but to no avail. He'd brought with him at least twenty Death Eaters, and they took turns patrolling the area, leaving no space unattended.

Therefore the three Gryffindors resorted to discussing in details about how they would get away once they've gotten the Elder Wand in front of Tom. This, of course, sent Draco into panic mode. Initially, he would make comments about how and why he didn't think certain ideas would work. The next day, however, he ended up sulking in the corner. Not that his anxiety lessened. On the contrary, he got more and more tense as the hours slipped away, and in the end, Harry, Ginny, and Hermione mutually agreed that it would be too telling for Tom to see him. So, he was almost always staying in the room he was sharing with Harry and Ginny.

Hermione never talked about it, since she didn't want to put something else on the others' minds, but she was also worried about Nicholas's safety. Though she hadn't gotten direct confirmation from Tom, she was a hundred percent positive that he had used Nicholas as a scapegoat for Dietfried's death. That was not something Hermione could sit back and let slip by. She had to do ** _something_**  to save the innocent, Ravenclaw heir, but she had no idea how to do so without getting information from Tom first. Not to mention didn't exactly think that walking into Nurmengard would be a sane idea to begin with. Therefore, she decided to spend most of her time thinking about how to get the Elder Wand first.

Just when she thought Tom and his Knights were not going to action at all, Hermione woke up alone in the room one day, and the side of the bed she was not sleeping on still held some warmth, indicating that it had been vacated not too long ago. Alerted, she quickly got up and went over to the window.

There were no Knights standing outside.

Adrenaline rushed through her veins, but she knew better than to jump at conclusions. She rushed out of the bedroom and checked each and every window. Though she had expected it, the feeling of defeat still welled up when she couldn't find any signs of Tom's Knights outside. However, she quickly quashed that feeling down and hurried over to the room where Harry and the others were staying in. Without bothering to knock, she threw open the door and went over to shake each of her companions.

"Wake up!"

"Whasdamadder?" Draco asked groggily.

"Wake up! Tom and the Knights aren't here anymore. I suspect they've gone to meet with Grindelwald," she said frantically.

That news caused Harry to immediately sit up in his makeshift bed and put his glasses on. "What?"

"I've checked all the windows … I should've suspected that they were going to do something today when he didn't bother to argue with me last night," Hermione said, blaming herself for letting that detail slip by.

"No wonder we had a good night's sleep last night," Draco muttered as he ran his hands through his hair.

"We need to go after them," Hermione continued as if she hadn't heard what Draco said. "They can't have gone too long ago. If we go right now, we might be able to catch up to them—"

"Granger, pray tell  ** _how_**  we're going to catch up with them. They must have Apparated out of here, and by the time we figure out where they are—"

"We'll go to the village. Again. If they're meeting with Grindelwald, there's bound to be traces of information about where they're going," Hermione said.

"Um, you're forgetting that we're not exactly welcomed there, Hermione," Draco pointed out.

"And you're forgetting that Grindelwald would've taken everyone and anyone who followed him. He saw Tom duel the other day. Any doubt he'd had about Tom's skills would've gone down the drain. He's not going to want to risk a chance facing such an opponent. What if Tom's Knights attacked him at the same time? He's an formidable dueler, but he's not stupid," Hermione replied. She turned towards Ginny. "Ginny—"

"I'm going with you," the redhead immediately said, standing up.

"But your injuries—"

"—are much better," Ginny finished for her. "I'm doing fine, Hermione. I've taken the last of the potions yesterday, and you don't see any of the wounds anymore."

"But what if we get into a fight? What if—what if the injuries need some more time to heal?" Hermione asked.

"Riddle never said time was required after I finished taking the potions," Ginny reminded her with a grin. "Not to mention that if we  ** _do_**  get into a fight, it's about time for me to show them that my dueling skills can be worth a few Knights and Grindelwald followers." She raised her eyebrows at Hermione. "You do remember that Luna and I did fight alongside with you against Bellatrix Lestrange during the last battle, don't you?"

"Besides, we're not going in to fight with any of them. We're just looking for a chance to get the Elder Wand before Riddle does," Harry added.

"Yes, and I'm sure that'll be a walk in the park and not end without a fight of some sort," Draco muttered. He cleared his throat, catching their attention. "You … you're sure I can't stay behind?"

"Of course you can," Hermione said offhandedly, obviously surprising him. "But do remember that you will have no way of knowing where we're going after we get the wand, and I'm sure Tom wouldn't have any problem capturing you and trying to lure us out with a certain little ferret.  ** _And_**  be assured that we're not coming back to save you."

Draco grimaced.

Before he could talk, however, Ginny added, "And if you decide to stay somewhere other than this cabin, I'm sure Riddle will have such a hard time searching you out. No, you don't have the tell-tale white-blond hair of the Malfoys, nor a rather conspicuous Dark Mark on your left forearm.  ** _And_**  you obviously speak German, making you blend wonderfully in this country. Not to mention that we're not even sure where the fight is taking place. Perhaps you'll conveniently cross in the path of Riddle and Grindelwald while they're dueling for the wand."

After those thoughts sank in, he gulped and said, "I … I guess I'll go with the three of you. Perhaps you'll need back-up along the way."

"I'm sure," Hermione said, rolling her eyes. "Now, first things first, we should check if Tom placed up any wards on the cabin to prevent us from leaving."

"And how are we going to break through said wards?" Draco asked with a defeated sigh.

"We'll get to that. First, we have to look for the signs," Hermione instructed.

Experiences from previous "adventures" had taught them that there was no such thing as being too careful. Therefore, before they went out, they simultaneously remembered to grab some food from Slytherin's magical compartment before heading out. They circled around the cabin, searching for signs, before meeting up at the front door again.

"Nothing on my side," Harry said, which was echoed by everyone else.

"Apparently, he didn't see us as threats enough to ward us in," Ginny said, raising an eyebrow.

"Or he hadn't thought that we would try to get the Elder Wand, given that we're going up against both him and Grindelwald if we do," Hermione deducted. "And he wouldn't think that we would dare to get seen again. Grindelwald wants to use us to bring Meinhardt over to his side against Dumbledore, and he knows we don't want to do things that might harm Dumbledore."

"What are we going to do now?" Harry asked.

"We'd have to Apparate to the village now," Hermione said.

"Reckon Grindelwald's Apparition wards are up?" Harry asked with a grin.

"I doubt it. Tom did rip through it effortlessly enough, and I don't think Grindelwald would be keen to let his potential enemy to show off again," Hermione said.

"Ernsta's house then?" Ginny asked with a mischievous glint in her eyes.

"Back shed might be a bit more appropriate," Hermione responded, equally amused. "According to Grindelwald, the Fiendfyre Curse did quite a bit of damage to it. Even if they'd somehow fixed everything, I don't want to arrive at a place and immediately have the old hag scream in my ears."

"Hm, good point," Ginny said.

"But wouldn't Grindelwald put some kind of ward around Dietfried's house? Would he try to prevent us from going there again?" Draco asked.

"Possibly," Hermione replied with a frown. Then her expression brightened. "So we'll Apparate to a small distance in the forest behind Dietfried's house. From there, we'll test to see if there are any wards."

"I'm really, really starting to feel that I'm the only sane one out of the four of us," Draco muttered right before they placed Disillusionment Charms on themselves and spun on the spot.

Once they arrived at the forest, their original plan to search for wards came to an abrupt stop when they took in the scene in front of them.

"Merlin's pants …" Draco muttered, his eyes wide with horror.

"I guess we wouldn't have to worry about wards any longer," Hermione said shakily.

Blood stained the snow as if someone had taken a paintbrush and splattered it randomly over the area. In some places, rags decorated those blots, though they were hardly noticeable, since they, too, were drenched in blood; at other spots … they'd rather believe that the chunks that they saw were snow rather than something else. Various trees had been cut through their middles, and their corpses dug into the inches of snow in front of them while others had branches dangling dangerously from them, threatening to impale anyone who crossed beneath them.

"This is like a butcher's shop," Harry murmured.

"Anyone fancy a steak now?" Draco joked uneasily, which earned looks of contempt from the three Gryffindors.

"Let's go," Hermione said, walking forward.

They took care not to step on anything as they crossed the area. The metallic stench of blood wedged and barged its way into their nostrils, making it difficult to breathe. The only relief they got was from the occasional drafts that rushed past them, but those were few and far in between. In the end, Draco grabbed a corner of his cloak and stuffed his face into it, though Hermione had no idea if it were to block out the smell or because he was feeling nauseous.

"Do you think Ernsta would really still be in the house now? I mean … they've turned the forest behind her house into a battlefield. I really don't think she … I don't think any sane person would stay in there," Ginny pointed out as they trudged through the snow.

"With her personality, I doubt she's going to go along with Grindelwald's followers, especially if they're dueling," Hermione analyzed. "If we can't find her in the house, we might find her elsewhere in the village."

"Yeah, and I'm sure  ** _that's_**  going to be such an easy task to do," Draco said with a muffled voice, which was ignored by the other three.

Although they were pretty positive that any wards constructed by Grindelwald would have been torn down by Tom now—and that belief was reinforced by the fact that there were stains of blood on the walls of Dietfried's house—Hermione, Harry, and Ginny still ran several tests to make sure of it. After all, they couldn't know for sure if Tom had placed any wards of his own on the house. Once the tests came up as negative, they entered the house as quietly as they could. The horrible sense of déjà vu washed over them as they crept up to the door leading to the kitchen.

The inside of the house was generally unharmed; it seemed like most of the fighting had taken place outside. That, at least, meant that there was a higher chance of Ernsta staying inside the house to avoid getting harmed.

Taking out her wand, Hermione waved her wand and muttered under her breath, " _Homunem revelio_."

Indications showed that there was someone in the room Tom had stayed during their last visit to Germany. However, it appeared that Ernsta wasn't the only one there—there were two people in that room. They slowly and quietly made their way towards that room and withdrew their wands. Once they were at the door, they shared a look with one another before Harry pushed open the door.

The young man sitting inside the room immediately sprang up to his feet, guarding the person lying in the bed.

It took a moment, but Hermione then realized that the person in the bed was Paulos Meinhardt, and the young man was none other than Meinhardt's son. Before she could say anything, he swished his wand through the air.

" _Finite Incantatem_!"

The spell hit them before they could step aside, and they were more than glad that he hadn't thought of cursing them first—perhaps because he was worried that they might've been his comrades.

"You … you're that girl from three days ago," Meinhardt's son said, his eyebrows furrowed together.

"Yes … my name is Hermione," she replied before looked at the man on the bed. "Herr Meinhardt … is he getting better?"

Meinhardt's son glanced at his father for a second before shaking his head. "They've stopped the curse from spreading, but they couldn't find the cure for it yet." His eyes snapped back to the four of them and he demanded, "What are the four of you doing here?"

She bit down on her lower lip, not sure how to say this without seeming as if they were out to help Tom. However, before she could think of something, Harry stepped forward.

"It's going to seem like we're trying to help Voldemort, but we're not," he said. "I know you're not going to believe whatever we tell you, but I just want to say that I wasn't lying that day when I said we had nothing to do with Dietfried's death. If we'd known that Dietfried was going to die that day, we would've tried to stop it, just like what we want to do right now. Regardless of who—We ** _know_**  who's going to win today, and if we don't somehow try to stop the duel between Grindelwald and Voldemort, more innocent people are going to get killed. We're just trying to help."

Meinhardt's son stared at them for a while, presumably digesting what Harry had just said.

"How are you going to stop them? You couldn't have possibly gotten away from Uncle Gellert the other day if Hermione hadn't used the Fiendfyre Curse," he said. "Not to mention you needed Lord Voldemort's help later on that day or else Uncle Gellert would've captured you. How are you going to stop the two of them or help anyone at all?"

They knew that he was simply analyzing the situation to them. They had no idea if it were because their sincerity had proved their innocence or he was being kind to them because Hermione had extended that friendliness beforehand, but there was not a trace of condescension when he spoke to them.

"You also do realize—I haven't spent too much time with Lord Voldemort yet, but if I am correct, he has some qualities very similar to Uncle Gellert. Both of them wouldn't hesitate in joining forces with one another to duel the four of you once they realize you are a threat to them," he added.

Draco's whimper was drowned out by Hermione's reply: "Yes, we know that. But … you don't understand. There are some things that we just can't let come to pass … we'll never be able to live with ourselves if we do."

"You might die in the process," he said. "They will not hesitate in killing you if you stand in their way."

A grimace appeared on Hermione's face. "Not if we can help it."

Meinhardt's son scrutinized her again, and seconds later, he said, "They've gone through the forest to the other side, towards the river give or take fifty kilometers away. I'm pretty sure they should be dueling there, since there's a clear area near that part of the forest."

A smile appeared on Hermione's face, for somehow, she knew that he wasn't lying to them. "Thanks."

Right before they left, she turned towards him again. "I'm sorry, but what's your name?"

He looked at her, and then a faint smile appeared on his face. "Geoffrey."

"Thank you, Geoffrey, for everything."

The time travelers knew they didn't have much time to lose, so they immediately rushed down the stairs and out the back door.

"We'll never get there on time. It's fifty kilometers from here," Draco said.

"We'll need to borrow brooms. There were a couple of them inside the back shed, more than the last time we've been here. Some of Grindelwald's followers must have had some trouble Apparating and decided to use brooms instead," Harry said.

"So you're saying that there's even more followers of Grindelwald than last time now?" Draco asked, alarmed.

"Well, I wouldn't worry too much about that, Draco. Tom might've gotten rid of a few of them already," Hermione answered as they marched towards the back shed.

"Yeah, and we might be next on the 'get rid' list," he said in a tiny voice.

"We'll need to get there as soon as we can," Harry said to Hermione, "so it'll be best if you fly with me instead of on your own."

Hermione was more than happy to agree with him; at least she wouldn't have to keep reminding herself that they weren't flying at a particularly high height now.

The three Quidditch players hurried into the back shed and each grabbed a broom, Draco more reluctantly than the other two, and once they were outside, they each mounted their brooms. After Hermione got on behind Harry, she wrapped her arms around Harry's waist.

"Full speed ahead," Ginny called out before the three brooms shot forward into the forest.

~-0-~

If Harry had any doubts about what Geoffrey had told them, it was definitely washed away the moment he saw the increase of blood and damage as they headed in the direction they were told. The scene they had seen earlier was nothing compared to the amount of bloodshed they saw as they got nearer and nearer to their destination. Once they heard sounds of dueling, they stopped, hovering in midair and trying to determine where the sounds were coming from.

"We'll have to find one of the Knights. They'll know where Tom and Grindelwald should've gone," Hermione said.

As they floated over towards the sound, each of them took out their wands, and Draco made it a point to stay some distance behind Harry and Ginny. Finally, they caught sight of a familiar white-blond head of hair hiding behind a tree while others were dueling farther away.

"Three guesses who that is," Harry snorted while Ginny giggled, despite of themselves.

"The similarities are awfully striking at this moment," she said, glancing at Draco askew.

While a blush found its way to the ferret junior's cheeks, Harry, Ginny, and Hermione jumped off the brooms and hurried over to where Abraxas was hiding.

"Abraxas," Hermione hissed when they got near enough.

The Slytherin swirled around, his face paler than usual. "Granger … what are you doing here?"

"Where's Tom?" she demanded.

"I thought— ** _he_**  said that you wouldn't be coming with us," Abraxas said.

"Where. Is. Tom. Don't make me ask you a third time," Hermione said warningly.

She didn't have time for his babbling, and if she didn't get the Elder Wand in time, she knew precisely who she would use as target practice for the years to come.

"He was dueling with Grindelwald minutes ago," he answered, perhaps a bit frightened by the way Hermione was rolling the wand between her fingers now.

"Which way did they go?" she asked.

At this, Abraxas paused, perhaps wondering if it were a good idea to let people know where his Lord had gone. His eyes flickered over to Draco, who was still hovering in midair on the broom. Under the joined pressure of gazes from the three Gryffindors, Draco gulped.

"Just tell them, Gramps," he said.

Abraxas scrunched up his face. "I'm not that much older than you now, Draco."

Draco shrugged, a smirk appearing on his face. "Well, that doesn't change the fact that I'm still biologically your grandson." His expression then turned serious. "They … might be able to help Riddle out. I mean … we're all doomed if old Grindels gets the upper hand. So, can't you just tell them where he's gone?"

That seemed to make sense to Abraxas, since he nodded and then pointed in a direction to the left of where the Knights and the followers of Grindelwald were fighting. Without further ado, Harry, Ginny, and Hermione jumped on the brooms and headed towards where they were directed, and true to Abraxas's words, they soon caught glimpse of three figures dueling in a clear area covered with snow.

"I thought it was only Riddle and Grindelwald," Draco said, horrified at the possibility that there was someone else there.

"The history books of the wacky timeline never mentioned a third person," Hermione said, wide-eyed.

Though there was a niggling feeling at the back of her mind as she watched the ongoing fight. From where they were, she could only see different colors of spells flashing through the air and couldn't see the faces of the three duelers clearly. However, she had an idea who that third person was, and her suspicions were confirmed as they got closer and closer to the dueling trio.

It was Albus Dumbledore.

The feeling that a rock was lifted from her heart gave Hermione a heady feeling, and she would've shouted out of relief if she weren't worried about Tom's safety now. What if Dumbledore and Grindelwald decided to call it a temporary truce to get rid of Tom together? She didn't want to think of what might happen after that.

"Well … this is quite a messy duel," Draco commented.

And Hermione had to agree with him. As they got closer to the three most powerful wizards of the century, it became clearer to the time travelers that there was not a specific arrangement about who was dueling whom. At any given moment, it would seem like Grindelwald was helping Dumbledore duel Tom; then, he would turn around to help Tom attack Dumbledore. Of course, there were also moments when Tom and Dumbledore seemed to be striking Grindelwald at the same time.

Flashes of different color—red, green, blue, brown, yellow, purple, white, orange, and variants of those shades—flew through the air, but hardly any of them managed to hit their intended targets. If they were under any other circumstances, Hermione, Harry, Ginny, and even Draco would have to admit that it was breathtakingly magnificent to watch the epitomes of power and magical competence duel one another.

"Much more impressive than when you dueled him, Potter," Draco said once they stopped at where they deemed as a safe distance. "No  _Expelliarmuses_ so far."

"Maybe that's why Riddle hasn't been defeated yet. And you might want to say that a little louder because I'm sure Riddle didn't hear you yet," Ginny said, though she couldn't take her eyes off the duel.

Draco didn't bother to answer her because he, too, couldn't look away from what was unfolding in front of them.

However, little did they know, Draco's words had just triggered a change in history yet again.

Snow swirled upwards around Voldemort, Grindelwald, and Dumbledore as they cast spell after spell at successively increasing speeds. The grace with which the three wizards moved around one another was astounding, almost as if they knew precisely where their opponents would move next—it was almost as if their moves were choreographed. Shield Charms were erected before hexes could hurt their victims but were ripped down just as quickly the next second. Trees cracked and crashed down as curses impacted into them, and the number of stumps on the snow-covered grounds continuously grew in number.

Suddenly, Grindelwald waved his wand effortlessly through the air and the frozen river came to life: the ice on top of it rose up at a fast speed and right before their eyes, transformed into what looked like a Chinese fireball. Hermione had no idea what it would do next because before it could attack anyone, Tom flicked his wand, and the Fiendfyre snake reared and struck the ice dragon, successfully melting it. Not a second had passed before Dumbledore slashed his wand; the water zipped towards him, but before it hit him, it flowed upwards and took the shape of a phoenix. The bird immediately shot towards the snake, and both the fire and water disappeared the moment the two "animals" clashed.

Almost everyone's eyes were on the duel in front of them, waiting to see what would happen next. Lord Voldemort, Gellert Grindelwald, and Albus Dumbledore hadn't seen it coming either, since they were concentrating on their opponents and hadn't even deemed it possible that someone would dare to interrupt their duel.

A vine wood wand slashed through the air just before the three wizards could attack again.

" _Expelliarmus_!"

As if in slow motion, everyone watched as the Elder Wand slipped out of Gellert Grindelwald's hand and flew through the air as the second darkest wizard in wizarding history stumbled backwards from the sheer force of the spell. The fact that there was someone out there who  ** _could_**  make him stumble backwards would've shocked him in any other situation. However, the fact that he was no longer the master of the Death Stick stunned him even more, and his bright blue eyes followed what used to be his wand through the air until it fell into an open hand.

Hermione Granger had become the master of the Elder Wand.

~-0-~

It had been a week since the legendary wand had fallen into their hands. Yet, they did not feel any safer, now that the most powerful wand was in their hands. On the contrary, they felt that things had never seemed more dangerous. Of course, that also meant that their accommodations were less than desirable. This, of course, thoroughly annoyed particularly one person.

"A trolls' cave. We've been living in a trolls' cave for  ** _a week_**  already," Draco moaned as he buried his face in his hand and leaned against the wall that he had spent hours just the day before trying to magick away the stains.

"Feel lucky that we're not thrown into Nurmengard or Azkaban already," Ginny said darkly as she handed out the rations they had brought with them from Slytherin's cabin.

For the past few days, the three Gryffindors put up with Draco's moaning and complaining because they knew that the running and hiding was not the only thing bothering him. It started off on the second day since they've escaped with the Elder Wand, and it continued to get worse: Draco's Dark Mark burned. They've tried everything they could find on it, including potions they had snitched from Slytherin's cabin, but unfortunately, none of it worked. So, they allowed Draco his grumpy, little episodes.

"We should be happy that Riddle hadn't thought about this place yet," Harry said, recalling how they had escaped from what almost became their graveyards.

The moment Hermione got the Elder Wand, she immediately ran towards the brooms, an action which was mimicked by the other three time travelers. Luckily, Tom and Dumbledore started dueling again—each of them probably presumed the four of them were on the other's side. Grindelwald, on the other hand, seemed to realize that without a wand, things could become overly dangerous for him, so he immediately Disapparated from the area.

The moment the four time travelers got on the brooms, they quickly flew as far as they could. Throughout their whole escape, Draco kept on muttering "You are completely mad, Granger, mad I'm telling you" while Harry and Ginny remained silent. They had no idea where to go, and Hermione didn't specify, so the three controlling the brooms kept on going in a single direction to get as far away from the Dumbledore and Riddle as they could.

They had no idea how far they had traveled before Hermione ordered them to land, but once they were on the ground, she immediately instructed them to Apparate to the trolls' cave where they'd first met Nicholas Lockhart-Lovegood. There, they'd stayed for two days already. Thankfully, they had taken a good amount of food from Slytherin's cabin this time, since they realized that it would be far too dangerous if they stole food immediately after they'd escaped. However, their supply was slowly running out.

Therefore, after they finished eating, Harry and Draco slipped under the invisibility cloak and went out to look for food.

"We're extremely lucky we haven't lost the invisibility cloak throughout all this time," Ginny said with a sigh of relief. "Can you imagine if we didn't have it with us?"

"I think we're just plain lucky throughout this whole trip," Hermione answered. She smiled. "Perhaps Tom was right when he said Harry was abnormally lucky. Nothing has gone completely wrong so far."

Ginny nodded and smiled, too.

"Anyway, I think this is a better time than any other," Hermione said, shifting her body slightly so that she was facing the redhead.

"What are you talking about?" Ginny asked, confused.

"The transfer of the ownership of the Elder Wand," Hermione replied.

Ginny stared at her for a whole minute before she said, "Hermione, Harry's not here right now."

Hermione sighed and shook her head. "I've thought about in the last two days. Tom's not exactly a stupid person—well … right now. Can't say the same for forty-seven years later when he tried to kill Harry using the same curse that hadn't worked a gazillion other times before."

Ginny snorted at this.

"But as it is, he's … not exactly stupid yet. So, if we thought about transferring the ownership to someone else, I doubt he wouldn't think of the same thing. The thing is, he might also realize that the first person I would transfer the ownership over to is Harry. He would never in a million years think that I would transfer it over to you—I'm not saying that you're weak, Ginny, quite the contrary to that. That's why I trust you with the ownership. I know you'll never give it to him. The best thing about this plan and the most crucial part of it is that Tom  ** _knows_**  you're afraid of him, and he  ** _knows_**  how protective we are of you."

A frown appeared on Ginny's face as she thought over what Hermione had said. In the end, she nodded. "You're right. Additionally, he knows that the two of us don't have any Occlumency skills and if he happened to rummage through my mind, he'll immediately know that I'm the master of the wand. He would never think that we'll take the risk. This  ** _is_**  the best way. So what should I do?"

"Er …" Hermione stared at the wand sitting in the palm of her hand. "I suppose you're supposed to just snatch it away from me. I don't know … I suppose I should put up a 'fight' over it … and then you're supposed to … oh, for Godric's sake, why did Death have to do something so complicated? Can't I just say something along the lines of 'I want Ginevra Molly Weasley to have it' and get this over and done with?"

"Hm …" Ginny said thoughtfully as she gazed at the wand.

She shared a look with Hermione, and without a warning, her hand shot out and grabbed hold of one end of the wand.

"Give it here, you … you … oh, I don't know, Riddle's pet!" Ginny yelled playfully.

"Oh, no, you don't, you … you little … er … little minx!" Hermione called back.

"Oye! I've only had three boyfriends before," Ginny argued, all the while trying to pull the wand from Hermione, who was half-heartedly trying to hold onto the Elder Wand.

"Yeah, well, that's what you get for calling me Riddle's pet," Hermione said as she blew a raspberry at Ginny.

"You  ** _are_**  though," Ginny said with a snort. "Everyone at Hogwarts knew how Riddle favored you over all the other students."

"That doesn't mean I'm his pet though," Hermione said as a blush appeared on her cheeks.

"Well, now that we know what happened between the two of you in this time period, I would say you are, Hermione dearest," Ginny said teasingly as the two of them continued to roll around the floor.

And that was the scene Harry and Draco came home to. Once they've pulled off the invisibility cloak, they couldn't help but stand there for a few minutes, watching the two growling and laughing girls in shock.

"Er … what are they doing?" Draco finally asked with a raised eyebrow.

"I would like to know, too," Harry replied before the two of them went over to break the two girls apart.

As Harry and Draco each held on to one of them, the two witches took a look at one another and started laughing again. Amidst all the confusion, Harry and Draco did not notice that clutched inside Ginny Weasley's hand was the Elder Wand.

~-0-~

"We'll have to find a new hiding area soon," Harry said as they sat around in a circle around a burning fire.

Draco and he had just returned from their search for food, and they were now waiting for their dinner—the roots they had found in the forest surrounding the cave—to cook. Upon hearing his words, Hermione glanced at him.

"Why?" Ginny asked. "Someone couldn't have seen you … I mean, you have the invisibility cloak on, and Malfoy here certainly wouldn't be so calm if that were the case."

Harry shook his head. "They haven't seen me, but I think I saw Grindelwald's followers searching through the forest. They didn't come anywhere near this part of the forest yet. I think they were warned by the villagers about the dangers that supposedly are still here. Only Riddle, Nicholas, and we know that the trolls were killed by Slytherin already after all. But once they can't find us anywhere else, I doubt they'll leave these areas unsearched. They're kind of leaving this to the last resort."

Hermione nodded slowly, and her eyebrows furrowed. That meant that they would have to pack up and leave as soon as they can, preferably by today. However, where would they go? Most, if not all, of Germany were looking for them, and she was positive that no one would take them in. Nobody wanted to earn the wrath of Gellert Grindelwald for strangers.

"Do you think we should look for Dumbledore?" Harry asked her.

"Potter, have you finally gone mad?" Draco immediately asked.

"What are you talking about, Malfoy?" Ginny spoke up. "It makes sense. Dumbledore was our Transfiguration professor and he's the only one who knew that we came from the future. He's the obvious choice if we want to go to someone for help."

"Look, haven't you noticed that Granger hadn't immediately suggested to go looking for Dumbledore? Even Potter here didn't suggest it until today. You haven't even thought about the reason behind this?" Draco asked.

His words seemed to have made sense to Ginny, since she swiveled her head around, gazing at Hermione and Harry in turn.

A deep sigh was emitted by Harry, and he nodded, as if he agreed with what Draco had said. He looked at Hermione, and they realized at that moment that they had thought of the same thing, too, when they mutually decided not to search for Dumbledore at the beginning. The only reason they were having second thoughts now was because they had no idea what else to do and where else to run.

"I … It's hard to explain this. It's not that I don't trust Dumbledore. For Merlin's sake, he's the only one I trust in this time period other than the three of you," Harry said.

Draco's eyes immediately snapped over to him, surprised that Harry would say that he trusted him. Discomfort caused Harry to shift in his spot, and he pushed up his glasses with one hand.

"I'm not saying that you definitely won't betray us if it's a choice between your hide and ours, but I know that to a certain extent … we're in this together," Harry explained.

And to some degree, they were friends. Harry left that unsaid; it wasn't something that  ** _needed_**  to be said. There were certain things that people couldn't go through without ending up as friends. For Harry, Ron, and Hermione, it had been the troll in first year, and the four time travelers had gone through much more than that. Even though they still had small quarrels here and there, there was a bond that invisibly connected each of them to another. In a sense, they were all they had left. Everything else had disappeared with their original future, the future that had been shattered into pieces.

Draco didn't say anything; instead he unconsciously rubbed where his Dark Mark was probably still burning. The sheepish, uncomfortable look on his face, however, was enough to confirm that he understood this as well as the three Gryffindors.

"However, as much as I trust Dumbledore, we don't know him that well in this time period," Harry continued.

"And even if Rita Skeeter is a dreadful woman, there are certain … things in that book that aren't lies," Hermione added carefully. "Dumbledore—well—he—he's not exactly immune to the power of the Elder Wand, especially not in the wacky timeline. We're not sure if he—he—"

"If he wouldn't want to become the master of the Elder Wand in this timeline for other purposes," Harry finished for her. He shook his head and sighed.

"But then we can just give it to him," Ginny pointed out. "Wouldn't that solve all the problems? I mean, both Grindelwald and Riddle are supposedly afraid of Dumbledore. So if the Elder Wand is in Dumbledore's hands, they wouldn't try to get it from him. Even if they do try, they would have a hard time. He  ** _is_**  a powerful wizard."

"It's not that simple, Ginny," Hermione said grimly. "What if Dumbledore thinks that we have something to do with Dietfried's death?"

Ginny stared at her. "Why would he think that?"

"We've disappeared, Ginny, right after Dietfried's death. That, in and of itself, makes us suspicious. And Dietfried was killed by Tom. I'm pretty sure Dumbledore must know that by now, and he knows that we were here with Tom. It's incredibly easy for him to think that we came to Germany to help Tom. Why else were we here? He doesn't know us as well as he did in the original future, and I doubt he would believe it even if we tell him we were here to help him. Even if he is a master of Legilimency, he might think that we know Occlumency and had been lying to him the whole entire time."

"So you think that if we go up to him and give him the Elder Wand, he might think that it's another ploy?" Ginny asked, alarmed.

Hermione nodded. Hesitantly, she added softly, "And I'm not sure if he's the Dumbledore we know."

"Huh?" Ginny asked, frowning out of confusion.

Harry sighed. "It's been five years, Ginny. A lot of things could've happened in between, and the thing is, we don't know what these things are. This isn't the Dumbledore we knew from the original timeline; heck, it wasn't the one we knew from the original timeline since the first time we landed in the past, in 1944. We've been changing far too many things in the past for the Dumbledore we knew to happen.

"The Dumbledore we knew never got captured by Slytherin for months. The Dumbledore we knew never had to deal with four mysterious students disappearing on him after one of his friends got killed by one of his students. He isn't the Dumbledore who'd defeated Grindelwald and gotten the Elder Wand. We don't know if his personality is like the one we knew in the original one."

"Or if he has the personality from the wacky timeline," Hermione added, to which Harry nodded.

"Do you remember the Dumbledore from the wacky timeline?" he asked Ginny. "As much as we want to pretend that those things never happened, they did, and they're part of our memories now."

"Well, we've learned that minor changes in the past can cause enormous changes in the future," Hermione said. "But unfortunately, it also shows us what Dumbledore could potentially become. We can't base everything on what we knew from our original timeline anymore."

"Well, it didn't help that Voldemort killed Grindelwald after he got the Elder Wand," Harry said.

"I think that's actually what caused Dumbledore to crack down," Hermione replied. "Any history book from the wacky timeline you look through would tell you that Dumbledore and Tom officially started competing with one another after Grindelwald died. Dumbledore was literally doing everything in his power to stop Tom. But things weren't going his way. Tom apparently learned so much about our original timeline that he knew mostly what to do. People were swayed by Tom's agenda this time around, and the wacky Dumbledore hated it. He hated the fact that he hadn't stopped Tom when he had the chance to, which led to Grindelwald getting killed, and he hated the fact that most people were following Tom."

"To be honest … thinking about it in retrospect and comparing the two different timeline, there comes a point when I can't see the difference between Riddle and the wacky Dumbledore anymore," Ginny added softly. "The wacky Dumbledore was awfully ruthless in that timeline, immoral, at times."

"You don't say," Draco said with a shiver. "He used my parents as patsies to get the Longbottoms away and out of reach from the Dark Lord. There were so many times when Mum and Father could've  ** _died_**  and he didn't so much as blink."

At this time, Ginny's shoulders slumped down and she let out a deep sigh. She obviously hadn't realized how complicated the whole situation would become.

"Then we can't go to Dumbledore." Then, she narrowed her eyes at Harry. "You—were you thinking about  ** _sacrificing_**  yourself to explain to Dumbledore, Harry?"

She looked so dangerous at that moment that a sheepish, apologetic smile appeared on Harry's face, and he explained, "I just couldn't think of any other way to get out of this, Ginny." He sighed. "I mean … we're in  ** _Germany_**. Where are we going to run? There's only a limited amount of places we can go, and we don't know who we would run into the next moment. And I can't think of anyone here that we can run to. I—we can't live in the dark for the rest of our lives."

The four of them fell silent, the congested feeling of being trapped building up with each crackle of the burning fire. They quietly grabbed portions of the cooked roots and started eating, and only stopped to listen when they heard noises from outside. However, other than occasional drafts of wind howling in, sporadically leveling out the building warmth inside the cave, they had a reasonably peaceful dinner.

"Perhaps … we can stay in a Muggle area first," Ginny suggested after they've finished eating. "They probably wouldn't think about searching for us there, and Muggles are oblivious to signs of magic."

"No, that wouldn't work," Draco contradicted, shaking his head. "With Grindelwald's power over Germany, he could easily tell all of the magical folks to move out of Muggle areas for a while and then track for magical activities there. The only reason the Dark Lord hadn't done this in the original timeline was because he knew that there were too many magical folks supporting Potter. But nobody knows us here. They wouldn't want to risk their lives trying to save us."

"Perhaps we can find another cave for the time being then, once we're sure that Grindelwald's followers had checked that area out," Harry suggested. "We do have the advantage of the invisibility cloak. So, we can all put Disillusionment Charms on ourselves first and then hide under the cloak. That way, even if they do detect our presences and use  _Finite Incantatem_  on us, it wouldn't work."

After a moment of consideration, Hermione nodded. "That's our best bet as it is, but we ought to get rid of any and all signs that there had been someone here before. The less evidence they find, the higher chance of us evading capture."

The four of them quickly cleaned up the cave—or rather, they messed up the place to the best of their abilities back to the way it had been before. Conjuring the bones and mess left behind by the trolls back from non-being wasn't particularly hard, but erasing the magical traces on them was a problem. In the end, they could only hope against hope that Grindelwald's followers wouldn't find the mess suspicious and test them out.

As the other three time travelers were busy packing, Hermione gazed at her own wand and contemplated their situation. If, by any chance, they got pursued, their priority would be to get Ginny out of the place as soon as possible, since she was now the master of the Elder Wand. In order for that to happen, they would need to distract their pursuers. Anyone chasing after them would think that Hermione was their target, the master of the Elder Wand, so she might as well show them what they wanted. With a wave of her wand, she cast a charm on her own wand to make it appear like the Elder Wand.

After placing the Disillusionment Charms on themselves, they all got under Harry's invisibility cloak and made their way out of the cave. Trudging in the snow-covered forest was a hard enough task, let alone when they were all holding onto one another underneath a cloak. Additionally, they had to cover up their tracks in the snow. Therefore, after ten minutes, they were hardly fifty feet away from the cave.

"This isn't going to work. What if we meet Grindelwald's followers along the way? I doubt we can get away in time. We can hardly walk like this, let alone run," Draco said in a low voice, panicky.

"We  ** _need_**  to encounter Grindelwald's followers, or at least, we have to see them without them noticing us," Hermione whispered back. "Once we're sure that they've covered an area, we can find a suitable place to stay."

"What if they check that place  ** _again_**?" Draco asked worriedly.

"Then we make a run for it," Ginny hissed. "Now would you stop talking! What if they hear us?"

Perhaps that made sense to him, since he did not answer, and they quietly crossed the snowy grounds.

Suddenly, they heard voices speaking in German, and almost reflexively, they stopped in their tracks. Perhaps they should keep moving, but the sounds of people getting closer and closer to them only made it harder for them to do so. They knew that the moment Grindelwald's followers detected their presences, they wouldn't be just surrounded by a couple of them—they would be hunted down by countless wizards and witches who were aimed at pleasing their master, and they wouldn't stop until they've subdued the four time travelers.

Therefore, their priority should be to move, but their feet seemed to be frozen to the ground beneath them as they grabbed onto each other with a death grip. Anxiously, they kept staring in the direction where the voices were coming from.

"We have to keep moving," Hermione said shakily in a low voice. " ** _Now_**."

It almost seemed as if they had to use all their strength to move. In the end, however, they finally started moving again. Hermione continued to cast spells at the snow they had walked across, vanishing traces of where they had walked; however, the unease on top of the cold made it hard to keep her hand steady, and several times, she very nearly missed her mark.

A loud shout in German caused them to freeze again, and Hermione felt a tug on her sleeve. It was probably Draco, since he was standing next to her when they placed the Disillusionment Charms on themselves and slipped under the invisibility cloak. However, because they were Disillusioned, she could not see what he was trying to alert her about. She glanced around their surroundings, trying to find what he saw; it didn't take her too long, for merely ten feet away was a young man—sewn on his cloak, over the left chest, was the sign of the Hallows.

They knew they couldn't possibly move now; the young man would undoubtedly notice the moment they moved or when they used magic to conceal their footprints. They almost forgot to breathe while the young man moved closer and closer to them.

 _What if he walks right into us?_  Hermione couldn't help but think.

They were still solid, and the young man would immediately know that something was wrong if he got blocked by "empty space."

Tightening her fingers around her wand, Hermione slipped her hand underneath the cloak so that the wand was outside. It was a choice between the Confundus Charm and the Imperius Curse. After a short moment of debating about it in her mind, she made up her mind: She couldn't use the Imperius Charm, since it might be too obvious to people who were so accustomed to using the Unforgivables. The Confundus Charm, on the other hand, left less noticeable side-effects, so hopefully, that would go unnoticed by the other followers.

The spell hit the young man square in the chest, and for a short second, the young man's eyes glazed over before he turned to the left and started heading that way.

Hermione let out a sigh of relief, and she thought she heard her three companions do the same.

The nearest follower of Grindelwald other than the one Hermione had just Confounded was almost twenty feet away, so they didn't hesitate to see if anyone else would notice what Hermione had done. The longer they stalled, the more of a chance they would get noticed; so, they continued.

They had no idea how it happened, since everything was going completely fine with their original set up of Hermione vanishing the tracks and the others watching out where they were going. Nonetheless, with a yelp, someone—Hermione couldn't tell who it was—fell down, kicking her in the back of her knee and causing her to sprawl forward. A muffled "Mmph" left her mouth as she tried to hold back a yell, and at the same time, she distinctly heard the sound of someone wheezing, indicating that someone had gotten their wind knocked out of them.

 _Should've learned from that time in Borgin and Burkes that it's not a good idea for too many people to maneuver under that cloak_ , Hermione couldn't help but think to herself, as bad as the timing was.

The disruption was enough to alert Grindelwald's followers; they had been watching out for any signs and sounds, and they've found their target. A symphony of " _Finite Incantatem_ " echoed through the air, all aimed towards the same general direction, and when nothing appeared, the followers of Grindelwald tried again—this time in the same direction again but at different heights. Unfortunately, some of them hit their marks this time. The Disillusionment Charms the four time travelers had placed on themselves melted away, and the only thing that was keeping them invisible was the invisibility cloak and it couldn't cover all parts of them.

" _Protego_!" Hermione immediately cast around them, but she knew it could only block some spells.

If the Unforgivables were thrown their way, the Shield Charm would not protect them.

The four of them stood, back to back, warding off spells and casting curses of their own. Each of their hearts thudded heavily against their chests, worrying ahead of time about the moment when the Killing Curse would be aimed towards them.

"Get Ginny out of here," Hermione hissed at Harry, who was holding the invisibility cloak under his arm now.

"I'm not leaving you here," Harry answered through gritted teeth.

"You don't understand—" she said as she blasted another blond off his feet. "—you  ** _have_**  to get her out of here.  ** _Now_**. Before Grindelwald, Dumbledore, or Tom arrives."

"They're targeting for the person who'd become the master of the Elder Wand, Hermione, and that's you. Didn't you notice how most of them are attacking you?" he asked.

Of course she noticed, and that was what she told Harry.

"But that's not the important thing right now," she added in an even lower voice. "You  ** _have_**  to get Ginny out of here. The wand is with her."

She felt both Harry and Draco stiffen beside her.

"What's that in your hand then?" Draco hissed.

"I've cast a charm on my own wand to look like it," Hermione answered.

"Why didn't you tell us sooner—Hermione, you were supposed to transfer the ownership over to  ** _me_** ," Harry growled.

"Tom would've thought of you immediately. He would've never thought that I would dare to give it to someone who we were always trying to protect from him," Hermione whispered.

"This is mad—we're  ** _not_**  leaving without you, Hermione. We're getting out of this together," Harry said, slashing his wand through the air and blasting an enemy further away than before.

"Listen to me, Harry—you can't let Ginny or the wand land in their hands. They won't try to kill me," Hermione said.

"They won't kill you,  ** _but Grindelwald will_**. He's going to be desperate to get the wand back, and he's not going to hesitate in killing you, Hermione—duck!" Harry said, and the four of them ducked away from a particularly nasty hex that was shot their way.

"The moment they know Ginny has the wand, do you think you'll have a chance to get her away?" Hermione asked quietly.

Harry did not answer, but she knew that she'd stricken something in him.

"You have that chance right now. Their concentration is on me, and they're not going to realize the real master had gotten away. The moment Grindelwald appears and if he uses Legilimency on me, he will realize that the wand belongs to Ginny, and do you think he's going to let the two of you get away that easily?" she continued.

The frown on his forehead deepened.

"Where's the wand?" Harry asked Ginny instead.

"What?" Hermione asked, alarmed, though she did not dare to take her concentration off the people surrounding them.

"Over here," Ginny answered.

Hermione had no idea where "here" was, since she didn't have eyes behind her head. However, she still felt them shift behind her, and she immediately asked, "What are you doing, Harry? No!"

However, he wasn't listening. "Malfoy, look after Ginny."

And then, Hermione saw him from the corner of her eye: He was casting with the Elder Wand.

"Harry, are you insane?" she yelled just as a couple of Grindelwald's followers shouted something in German.

"Get Ginny away," he ordered, throwing a spell at one of their pursuers who'd gotten too close to them.

Hermione knew that the ownership of the wand was still Ginny's since Harry hadn't taken it by force. However, she had no idea if it were because Harry was the master of the Elder Wand in the original timeline or if she were just imagining it, but the spells he was casting with the wand seemed to be stronger.

"Harry, please—" she began to say.

"You said I was lucky. Now's the time to try out my luck," Harry cut in as he cast spell after spell at their attackers. "Get Ginny away. When I get somewhere safe, I'll use the necklace to alert you where I am."

Hermione bit down hard on her lower lip. She couldn't do this. She couldn't possibly leave Harry all alone on this by himself.

"Draco, get Ginny out of here," she said, making up her mind.

"What? Me?" Draco screeched as he put up another Shield Charm.

"Yes, you. Now. They're not sure who's the master of the Elder Wand yet, but they're concentrating on Harry and me. Our priority is to prevent someone else from getting their hands on the wand. Harry, concentrate on opening a road for the two of them," Hermione instructed.

"You're going with them," Harry insisted.

"Oh, no, you don't," Hermione snarled, casting a Stinging Hex at another of their pursuers. "We've gone through this argument already, multiple times. We're in this together, and that's how it's going to be until the very end."

He didn't answer immediately, and it almost seemed as if he had placed all his concentration on dueling Grindelwald's followers instead. After a while, with a sigh and a frown, he nodded.

"You can't expect me to leave without the two of you," Ginny immediately protested.

"You have to, Ginny," Harry pleaded as he slashed his wand through the air again to blast another follower away. "Please, Ginny. Just do as I say. I promise you, I'll make it out of this alive, but you need to get out of here first."

It almost seemed like she wanted to say something against it, but then decided against it. In a low voice, she said, "You better remain healthy and alive, Harry James Potter, or else I'll personally strangle you."

Harry and Hermione then shifted their positions, with Hermione watching out for Harry while he concentrated on opening a road for Ginny and Draco to escape.

"Now!" Harry yelled, signaling Ginny and Draco.

Ginny and Draco immediately bolted forward, shooting spells and curses along the way as Harry hexed away any of Grindelwald's followers that might try to target them. At first, some of Grindelwald's followers targeted Ginny and Draco. However, perhaps they felt that the Elder Wand was priority, since moments later, they placed their concentration back on Harry and Hermione.

"We'll have to start moving, too. We can't stand here forever. There's too many of them and they have back-up. Sooner or later, they're just going to attack us in rounds to tire us out and then capture us," Hermione said.

It was easier said than done, since their opponents came as Hermione predicted: wave after wave. Nonetheless, Hermione and Harry slowly made progress, and they were more than relieved to be correct in their assumption that most of their pursuers were targeting them instead of Draco and Ginny.

"Look out!" Harry suddenly yelled as a particularly bright blast of light headed towards them.

The two of them almost instinctively jumped to the side into the snow to avoid the spell. The hex exploded where they had been before, but both Harry and Hermione could not spare a glance at it because another spell hurtled towards them, forcing them to move again. Soon, they got farther and farther away from one another, and each time they wanted to move closer to one another, they would be forced farther apart.

 _Divide and conquer_ , was the thought that came to Hermione's mind. However, she didn't know how to stop them; right now, she could only concentrate on defeating as many of them as possible and keeping herself alive.

She had no idea how long she dueled; different cuts lined her body, but none of them were worrisome enough to stop her. However, her fingers felt numb, and she felt a growing ache on her back and arm. The only thing that kept her going was the adrenaline rushing through her body, but she didn't know how long that would last. One thing she did know though was that she had keep fighting as long as she could; that way, Ginny and Draco would have a higher chance of getting away.

She could no longer see where Harry was, but she knew he was alive, since the number of people surrounding her didn't seem to increase.

Her surroundings changed as she edged away, and soon, she found herself in a clear area, though the ground still had inches of snow piling on top of it.

Her pursuers were relentless, and just when Hermione thought she was going to fall over into the snow out of fatigue, the loud crack of Apparition resounded behind her and echoed through the air. Seconds later, a spell-created phoenix flew across the skies. As if on cue, Grindelwald's followers stopped their spell-casting the moment they saw it. Slowly, one by one, they stepped backwards, a look of cautiousness on most and expressions of fear on others. Then, they all Disapparated, leaving the area clear except for two people.

Hermione felt as if someone had dropped a stone inside their stomach, for she already knew who was standing behind her when she saw that phoenix. Additionally, with her knowledge of the histories of the multiple timelines, she knew that there were only three people who could strike this level of fear in people.

Even before she turned around, she knew that the person standing behind her had to be Dumbledore.

"Good evening, Miss Granger," he greeted her after she turned around to face him, though his piercing blue eyes were exceptionally hard.

"Good evening, professor," she replied, still panting from the rigorous battle she had just gone through.

Her eyes darted to the side, trying to see if she could catch a glimpse of one of her companions. Hopefully, they were safe.

"There is no need to call me 'professor' any longer, Miss Granger, for you are no longer attending Hogwarts," he replied conversationally.

She knew what and where this conversation would lead to, but she had no idea what was going through his mind right now. It no longer mattered if he would trust them; the more important question was whether or not they could trust Albus Dumbledore. Was he the same person they had known? Could she really trust him with the Elder Wand?

She did not know, so she did not open her mouth to answer him; instead, she waited for him to continue.

"I recall the day when I first saw you and your three companions, Miss Granger, quite well, actually," he said, so lightly that they could've been chatting over afternoon tea.

 _And don't forget the lemon drops_.

She shook her head, finding it ludicrous that her mind found it appropriate to crack jokes at this time; she must be spending too much time with Draco and Harry.

"I can't say that I didn't find it suspicious when you were brought into the school with the injured Mr. Riddle, but I admit that your seeming sincerity convinced me that you were not associated with him," he continued.

The underlying message was clear to Hermione, and it was something she had already guessed: Dumbledore believed that they were helping Tom.

"I am greatly disappointed with you, Miss Granger," he said gravely.

"I've said it once, sir, and I'll say it again: We did not come to Hogwarts with bad intentions," Hermione replied.

"Perhaps not," he agreed, nodding his head, "but I trust that you have, by now, found out how convincing Mr. Riddle can be."

"As convincing as he is, I know what kind of person he would turn into," she answered, her hand tightening around her wand.

She'd never thought that she would attach the word "chilling" to Dumbledore. The wacky Hermione probably could, but that was a completely different feeling altogether. At the very least, Dumbledore had never looked at  ** _her_**  the way he was right now.

"Indeed, I never doubted you knew, which was why it was … calculating on your part and your companions' to earn his trust in that way," he said.

Hermione's eyes widened, and she realized that he thought Harry, Ginny, Draco, and she had given Tom information about the future.

"Sir—"

"What is the relationship between you and Mr. Riddle, Miss Granger?" he asked, interrupting her explanation.

His question took her aback, and she couldn't do anything but stare at him. The color drained from her face when she realized that this was the one thing that had completely shattered Dumbledore's trust for them. However, as sick as it was, she couldn't bring herself to regret her decision.

"Imagine my surprise when I returned to Hogwarts, only to find my colleagues informing me the interesting interactions between you and Mr. Riddle," he continued, "which then showed me how short-sighted I was, a mistake I do not wish to repeat."

"I would never let anything sway my belief in what is right," Hermione finally said, though she knew Dumbledore would never believe her.

"Be that as it may …" he trailed off and stared at her for a short moment. "As I've told you, I do not wish to make the same mistake twice, Miss Granger. Forgive me for not trusting you with the ownership of the Elder Wand, and I must ask for you to relinquish it to me."

"I can't give it to you, sir," Hermione said, shaking her head.

She couldn't let Dumbledore know that the wand in her hand was not the Elder Wand. Perhaps she was influenced by the memories from the wacky Hermione or perhaps the logical part of her brain analyzed the situation far quicker than she realized, but she knew that she could not trust him with the wand. Not with the look he was giving her. It reminded her too much of the wacky Dumbledore, and she knew it was not a good sign. Letting him know that Harry and Ginny had the Elder Wand might put them in unnecessary danger and she would rather die than to let that happen.

Besides, she doubted Dumbledore would believe her at this point anyway.

"I cannot afford to let Voldemort's power grow, Miss Granger," Dumbledore said.

"I never planned on giving it to Tom," she said, enunciating each word as clearly and strongly as she could.

His eyes became colder, and Hermione felt her heart jump to her throat, and she was about to open her mouth to explain when, from the corner of her eye, she saw someone—a trio, to be exact—running towards them. It appeared that Harry had caught up with Draco and Ginny. Her mouth hung open, and though she kept staring in the general direction of Dumbledore, her mind was completely on her time traveling companions. She wanted to tell them to turn around and leave; they couldn't let Dumbledore notice that Harry had an Elder Wand, too. But she knew that opening her mouth and screaming across the field wouldn't make it any less conspicuous.

"Then you leave me no choice, Miss Granger," Dumbledore said quietly as he pulled out his wand, catching her attention again. "I'm sorry, but it's all for the greater good."

Another crack of Apparition resounded through the air just as Dumbledore slashed his wand through the air. Hermione turned her head, just in time to see the shocked expression of Tom Marvolo Riddle as a flash of green rushed towards her and hit her square on the chest.

On February 25, 1950, Hermione Granger died at the hands of Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore.

~-0-~

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **A/N** : Many thanks to my betas, Marauder's Wolf and Nerys!


	56. Chapter 56

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **A/N** : This was the April Fool's chapter, not an actual chapter; the full content will be reposted under the Outtakes thread, for those of you who wants to see it in its entirety. As it is, I'm only going to leave the little drabble that I've written for the Tomione Convention forum that was basically based on and in the universe of "Somewhere in Time" ... it was basically stuck right in between all the pika and chus of the April Fool's chapter. XD
> 
> Inspired much by pikapipikachupi on Twitter.

**April Fool's Chapter's Easter Egg**

Tom glared at the woman laughing hysterically on the floor.

"Shut up, Granger."

However, that just made her laugh even harder. Tears were streaming down her face, and her arms were hugging her stomach, but she couldn't stop. Every time she stopped and looked at him, her eyes would flicker over to the bed, and then she would break down once again.

"I can't believe—How  ** _old_**  are you, Riddle? Twenty-five? Twenty-six? And you're still ..." Hermione then started laughing again.

"It wasn't me," he said, his eyes hard and aflame with anger.

"Oh, I'm sure it's not. That's why it's on  ** _your_**  side of the bed," she sniggered, glancing at the yellow, wet spot on the sheets.

"Granger, I'm warning you—" he said through gritted teeth.

"What are you going to do?" she asked, cocking her head to the side daringly. "Pee on me?"

With a growl, he launched himself towards her, and the sounds of yells (half playful and half fearful) erupted in the room.

Outside the room, the real culprit—a black-haired, bespectacled young man—hurried away under his invisibility cloak with a blond-haired young man.

~-0-~

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **A/N** : Many thanks of my beta, Nerys.


	57. Chapter 57

**Chapter 57**

Everything seemed to happen in slow motion. It felt as if a lightning had crashed down on their heads as they watched the scene unfold in front of them.

Green light illuminated the area briefly, and nobody could move as they watched a single body fall to the ground, her brown eyes wide and lifeless.

Hermione Granger was dead.

Hermione was …  ** _dead_**.

Her hand clutched onto her wand, though instead of the Elder Wand, it was an ordinary-looking vine wood wand. The spell she had placed on it to make it look like the Elder Wand had broken, giving further proof that she was …

Emotions threatened to rock his body, and Draco wanted to do nothing but to kick something out of anger or close himself up somewhere and cry. However, years of training were not for nothing, and the moment he took a good look at Riddle, he knew he had to keep going; that expression on Riddle's face was much,  ** _much_**  scarier than any other Draco had ever seen, and it foretold of the wreckage that was to come.

" _Our priority is to_   _prevent someone else from getting their hands on the wand."_

"Hermione!" Harry yelled as he and Ginny ran towards Hermione's body.

Dumbledore's eyes flickered over, and his eyes caught sight of the wand Potter had in his hand. Fear caused adrenaline to rush through Draco's body, and as quickly as he could, he ran over to Potter and Ginny, grabbed a hold of them, and Disapparated.

~-0-~

Almost as if the inches of snow on the ground hardly affected him, Tom Marvolo Riddle crossed over the distance between him and the body in the snow. He barely noticed Potter's scream; it was unimportant to him.

When he reached Hermione Granger's body, he gazed at it; his eyes gradually followed a path over her body until it reached her face. Her motionless face seemed even paler under the illumination of the crescent moon. Slowly, he turned around and placed his attention on the other person present. Unprecedented fury raged through his body system as he stared at his former Transfiguration professor.

And then, a surge of power exploded outwards from him.

Dumbledore quickly waved his wand, putting up a Shield Charm before the storm reached him. However, it was useless; the magical barrier immediately got shredded into pieces and he got blasted into the nearest tree. An anguished yell escaped his mouth as he tried to lift up his arm to conjure another barrier to protect himself but was unable to do so. The pressure exerted from the explosion was too great.

When it finally stopped, he clutched his hand to his chest. Blood dribbled out of the corner of his mouth as surprise followed by calculation flashed through his face. He seemed to concluded that it would be far too dangerous to duel Lord Voldemort right now because he didn't bother counterattacking; before Tom could strike him again, he Disapparated.

A strong gust of wind blew over the area, accentuating the heavy silence hanging in the air. The absence of calls and cries from night animals was far more noticeable now, without the sounds of dueling.

Tom tightened his grip around his wand and loosened it again. He stared at the spot where Dumbledore was last standing, but his mind was on the body lying in the snow behind him. A flash of red past through his eyes as he recalled what just happened in front of him. No, he refused to believe that that was true. He would not permit it to be true. The witch was  ** _his_** , and nobody was going to steal her from him.  ** _Nobody_**.

"Get up, Granger," he said without turning around, his voice harsh.

The wind blustering through the trees was the only answer he got, and he shut his eyes, trying to get that anger in him under control.

"Get up, Granger, and don't make me say it a third time," he said through gritted teeth. "I'll torture and then kill Malfoy, Potter, and Weasley in front of you if you don't get up right now, and I mean it."

Opening his eyes again, he whipped his wand across the air; a wave of magical energy swept out again, this time slicing through the first four rows of trees. The resulting crashes made heaps of snow billow upwards, and the noise echoed throughout the forest. Another swish of his wand, and the flurries solidified, forming into sharp daggers that shot through the forests and stabbing into trees.

But that wasn't enough for Tom. The fury inside him was roaring, needing a way out, especially since  ** _she wasn't replying_**.

"I  ** _said_** , get up, Granger," he said, swirling around and glaring at her still body. "Don't think that just because I've been lenient with you, I would do the same right now."

The explosion of his magic hadn't harmed her as it had done to Dumbledore, since she was at the eye of the storm. His eyes landed on the wand inside her hand, and his wrath increased tenfold. It was obvious to him what she had done. Bloody  ** _Gryffindor_**!

"How dare you sacrifice yourself for someone else? Pretending that you had the Elder Wand … Did you think it was  ** _noble_**  to do something like that, dying for Potter? Do you think it's  ** _brave_**  to do so? How dare you sacrifice yourself without my permission?" he hissed. "You are  ** _mine_** , Granger, and you will do as I say, so  ** _get up this instant_**."

However, she continued to lie there, and it would have seemed as if she were in some kind of peaceful slumber if she didn't have that look of surprise on her face.

"Do you hear me, Granger? You. Are. Mine. Don't think you're getting away from me like this because I haven't said I was tired of you yet, and mark my words, you're not going anywhere before I let you," he continued.

A frustrated scream left his mouth when she did not answer—how dare she not answer him? How dare she lie there,  ** _ignoring_**  him while he was talking to her? The nerve of the wench.

"Answer me, Granger,  ** _answer me_**! Is this some new tactic of yours to show your dissent? What happened to your idiotic, Gryffindor courage? Get up and state your dissatisfaction, Granger!" he snarled. "Fight me, Granger. Use that bloody wand of yours and throw hexes at me. Pretending it's the Elder Wand … just because those followers of Grindelwald are idiots, doesn't mean that the rest of the world is, and I would like to see you try and best me with your 'Elder Wand.' Now,  ** _get up and fight me_**!" He turned away from the body again and closed his eyes. "I'm giving you three minutes maximum, Granger, three minutes. If you don't answer me by then, you have my word that I will destroy every single person you care about."

He breathed heavily as he glared at the sliver of moon hanging in the midnight sky. Absurdly, he was reminded of the time in the library when he teased her about her Astronomy essay. That memory caused the ire in him to rise yet again, and frustrated, he waved his wand through the air again, creating a Fiendfyre serpent that devoured nearly half the forest before he made it disappear. Scorched ground and burnt stumps marked the places where the snake had traveled. Yet somehow, that did not make the irritation in him go away.

"Fight back, Granger," he murmured, almost as if to himself. "Fight me." A derisive snort left his lips. "Give me a piece of your mind about how utterly wrong I supposedly am. Do you know how absolutely annoying you are when you give me that mocking, superior look? As if you know better than me? You really aren't, you know? You're no better than the dirt on the ground. That's why they— ** _we_**  call you a Mudblood. I'd imagine you're disagreeing with me." He turned around, his body shaking with anger. "Then prove that I'm wrong, Granger! Tell me how absurd I am for differentiating between bloodlines, you disgusting little Mudblood!" He pointed his wand at her. "Don't make me force you to move because I  ** _will_** , Granger, and I won't bloody hold back in my casting."

He  ** _hated_**  how she was remaining quiet when he wanted her to talk. He  ** _hated_**  how she wasn't talking back to him now, defending her friends and threatening to kill him if he dared to touch them. He  ** _hated_**  the way her hands were clutched together on the side, unmoving. He  ** _hated_**  that glassy, lifeless look in her eyes. He  ** _hated_**  the way she laid there without any indication that she were alive.

And most of all, he hated her. He absolutely  ** _hated_**  her.

"I hate you, Hermione Granger. I hate you with every fiber of my being, and don't you dare think that you can manipulate me with this. I hate you, you filthy little Mudblood, I hate you. Did you think that just because you've gotten away with it the first time, you'll get away with it again? I haven't thoroughly punished you for going back to the future. You're not getting away with this, Mudblood, and the longer you fail to respond to me, the worse your punishment will be.  ** _Now get up!_** " he growled. He squeezed his eyes shut before opening them again. With a flick of his wand, he hissed, " _Crucio_."

Unleashing his anger through his magic, he waited for her to scream. However, that in and of itself made him even more furious.

"How dare you make me wait, Granger? You've already made me wait for you five years,  ** _five bloody years_** , and don't think you're going to make me wait another second," he growled. Slashing his wand to the side, he ceased the spell, panting from the unbearable rage surging through him. "Did you think that Cruciatus was the worst that I can? Did you think that's the worst you're going to get for this? Get up right now or else—or else—" He clenched his teeth together and pointed his wand at her body again. " _Crucio_!  _Crucio_!  _Crucio_!"

Yet, she remained still. Her eyes remained open, unblinking.

He fell silent, his arm still held out straight ahead of him though he was no longer channeling magic through it. He stared at her as the wind brushed against them, blowing snow onto her face and body as if threatening to bury her beneath the blankets of white. For a moment, it almost seemed as if Tom had been petrified or placed under a Full Body Bind, since he did not so much as blink as he kept his eyes on her. Then, he waved his wand, sweeping the snow that had fallen on her body away. Stiffly, he walked up to her body and crouched down next to it.

" _Riddle."_

Her voice echoed so clearly in his mind, and he could almost believe that she was the one who'd talk, if it weren't for the fact that he was gazing at her still face. He clenched his hands into a fist and shut his eyes tightly.

"I hate you, Granger," he whispered.

Opening his eyes, he gazed at her again. Slowly, he reached out and brought his hand over her eyes, closing them. His hand lingered on her closed eyes, her nose, her cheek, and finally her lips. He brushed her hair to the side, away from her face. With her eyes closed, it almost seemed as if she were sleeping.

"I hate you," he repeated softly.

He slipped his arms under her neck and knees, his motions gentle, as if he were afraid of waking her up. Holding her body close to his, he stood up, turned on the spot, and Disapparated.

~-0-~

The moment they landed, Draco flicked his wand. " _Accio_  Potter's glasses."

The pair of glasses immediately flew into his hand, amidst the sounds of protest from Potter.

"What are you doing, Malfoy! Give it back here! Why did you Apparate us out of there!" the Gryffindor yelled.

"Give Harry his glasses back, Malfoy," Ginny said through gritted teeth, holding out her hand.

"No," he answered, his voice so calm that it shocked even himself.

"We need to go back there, Malfoy—I'm going to kill Dumbledore if it's the last thing I do—I'm not kidding, Malfoy, I'll hex you till the next century if you don't give me back my glasses right  ** _now_** ," Potter said, seething as he tightened his grip around the Elder Wand.

Draco swallowed when he realized that Potter might try to hex him soon; thankfully, it was probably harder for Wonder Boy with his sight impaired to hurt him, so he squared his shoulders and stared back at Potter.

"No," Draco repeated himself firmly. "And we're not going back there."

"What do you mean we're not going back there! Who made you the leader! Hermione's back there and we need to go back to her!" Ginny yelled, tears welling up in her eyes.

"I don't care if you want to run away like a coward, but I'm going back there. We're not leaving her, we're not leaving … her … her …" Harry trailed off, and a lost expression appeared on his face as the fact that Hermione was gone sank in.

Slowly, the grip he had around the Elder Wand loosened as he fell silent.

Draco closed his eyes and bit down hard on the inside of his cheeks before he answered, "We cannot go back there. And  ** _don't_**  make me take your wands from you because I will. Weasley, you're the master of the Elder Wand right now, and if we go back there—"

"Just because you're afraid, doesn't mean the rest of us are!" Ginny screamed. "She's our  ** _friend_** , and she thought you were her friend, but all you did was run off—"

"LIKE SHE WOULD'VE TOLD US TO!" Draco shouted back, emotions finally breaking through the dam he had built up. "She'd said that the priority was to protect the owner of the Elder Wand, and that's precisely what I'm doing!" He pointed at Ginny, his whole body visibly shaking as he did so. "And don't you  ** _dare_** , Weasley. Don't you  ** _dare_**  say that she wasn't my friend. Don't you dare say that  ** _I'm_**  not her friend. She was the only one who stood up for me when Riddle Cruciated me. She was the only one there for me. She was the only one who cared for me. She was …"

His voice cracked and his eyes blurred as he dropped his hand to his side. He couldn't continue anymore. Ginny had fallen silent, and she surprisingly hadn't interrupted him while he talk. Seconds later, Ginny buried her face into Harry's shirt, her shoulders shaking as she cried. Potter, however, remained motionless, a vacant look in his eyes.

Draco, however, could care less about what they were thinking, feeling, or doing.

"She took care of me. She knew I would've been upset because I had no one in 1944, so she took extra care to stay next to me, to keep me company. She never left my side even when she knew it would be dangerous to do so. She didn't even care if it meant she would get harmed," he said softly.

He had no idea it could hurt this much. He had felt the sorrow when Crabbe died in front of him, and it had taken more than a while to get over that. That had been normal, since they had grown up together. With Hermione, on the other hand … somehow—however absurd it might seem—she had managed to wedge herself into his life and became almost like an older sister to him.

Now, she was …  ** _gone_**. And they didn't even get the chance to say good-bye.

He sucked in a deep breath and looked towards the skies, trying to push down the emotions inside of him.

Merlin, he was not going to cry for her. Definitely not. For Salazar's sake, he got out of the place alive; he should be happy about that. After all, self-preservation came first, and he didn't officially catalogue her as friend until recently. It shouldn't matter that much.

However, the moment he blinked, he felt the tears escape his eyes and trailed down his cheek.

And then, he couldn't hold it back anymore: An angry sound erupted from his throat. He kicked at the snow, pretending it was Dumbledore's face, as he cried and wished that everything was just a bad dream. He kept kicking the snow until finally, he slumped down on the snow, exhausted.

She was gone. She was really, really gone. Images of how she interacted with them appeared in his mind's eye, and phantom echoes of her voice resounded in his ears. He desperately tried to push them away, but the harder he tried to do so, the more vivid the memories appeared in his mind's eye.

"She can't be … she can't be gone," Ginny said, her voice muffled as she shook her head. "It's not possible. How could she be gone? She'd gone through so many things with you, Harry, and she always made it out alive. How could she be gone? Perhaps … perhaps she's still alive. Didn't Hermione say that Riddle mentioned something about Slytherin using time travel to keep himself alive? Maybe Hermione's still alive. Maybe the Killing Curse … didn't affect her."

However, they knew that that wasn't a possibility. After all, the Killing Curse was precisely what Riddle had killed Slytherin with. So that made it obvious that time travelers were not protected from it.

"It's all your bloody fault, Potter! If you haven't followed me into Borgin and Burkes, we never would've ended here, and I would've never had to become friends with her! It's all your bloody fault!" Draco yelled, throwing Harry's glasses at Harry.

When there was no reaction, Draco picked up snow from the ground and threw it at Harry, but he couldn't stop the tears from falling.

None of this was supposed to happen. Everything was supposed to have ended—or at least, all the ill-fated things should have ended the moment Potter vanquished the Dark Lord. How was it possible that things could turn out so wrong?

Harry didn't duck away from the attack; the snow hit him directly in his face, yet he did not move. It was almost as if a dementor had given him a kiss. The lack of reaction made Draco even angrier, and in his fury, he started grabbing other chunks of snow and threw it at Harry, until Ginny stepped forward, blocking Draco's view of Harry.

"Malfoy … stop … please," she said quietly.

Draco had no idea if it were because of her tone of voice or because the exhaustion that settled in his arm the moment he stopped to avoid hurting Ginny instead. However, slowly, he lowered his arm and he finally got a good look at Potter. That dazed look on Potter's face would've been comical under other conditions, but somehow, it just caused another pang of pain in Draco's heart. The sobs escaped the blond's mouth before he could stop himself, and he buried his face into his hands and cried.

"Bloody Gryffindor! You said we were comrades, Granger. You said we only had one another left. You said we're the only four left. You said we had to stick together. How could you leave us like this?" he wept. "How could you leave us?" He hit the pile of snow next to him. "How could she? How could she? How could she? I wished I never became friends with her."

That immediately got a reaction from Ginny, who swirled around away from Harry and glared at him, her eyes puffy and red. "How could you say that? How  ** _dare_**  you say something like that? You—you—"

"How dare I say that? How dare I say that? Do you even bloody know how it feels like to me? Do you know how it feels like to have selfish friends throughout your whole damned life and then becoming friends with Hermione only to have her die on you? To have her die  ** _in front_**  of you?" Draco hollered. "No, you don't know, so don't bloody tell me what I can or cannot say, Weasley!"

Ginny stared at him, as if it were the first time she'd seen him. Perhaps it was, because throughout the years they had known one another, they had never known one another well enough other than the fact that they were on opposing sides. Then, she finally dropped her gaze and took a step back.

"Hermione … oh, Hermione," she whispered as tears fell down her cheeks again. "We … we didn't even get the chance to say good-bye … we didn't even get to give her … give her proper …"

She trailed off, unable to bring the word "burial" out.

Draco's eyes snapped over to Harry, who was still standing there as if someone had hit him over the head with a sledgehammer. The fact that he was just standing there and not doing anything made Draco angry.

"Standing there and doing nothing now, Potter? What happened to the boy who saved the world? The Chosen One? What happened to your bloody heroic miracles?" he spat out. "What's the point of having you around? You're useless,  ** _you're useless_** , do you hear me? You're useless!"

At the back of his mind, Draco knew that Potter had gone through even more things with Hermione and was probably going through shock right now. However, he didn't really care about Potter's feelings at the moment. All three of them were hurting. Watching Hermione die in front of them was like having something ripped right out of them.

And somehow, he knew that that pain would not go away anytime soon.

~-0-~

The crack of Apparition announced his return, and immediately, his Knights knelt down on the ground.

"My Lord," they chorused.

When they didn't get their usual permission to get up, some of the more daring—or rather, those who believed they were closer to the future Dark Lord—tilted their heads upwards. A large portion of them immediately lowered their heads again as bitter coldness traveled down their spine once they saw the expression on Tom's face. They had seen Lord Voldemort lose his temper before; they had seen him infuriated before; but it was nothing compared to what they saw right now, and they knew better than to ask.

"Is that … Granger?" Abraxas asked Antonin Dolohov in a small voice, hoping that the Dark Lord did not hear him.

He never knew if Tom did hear him or not. If he did, he didn't acknowledge it. In fact, Tom walked right into Slytherin's cabin without so much as glancing at his followers.

Once he reached the kitchen, he propped Hermione up in one of the chairs and made sure she wouldn't fall off before he turned towards the middle of the room. He took out his wand as he eyed where the magical compartment was located. The visible protections were not so hard to break down. The real problem would be the invisible, undetectable ones and making sure that the preservation spells inside the cabinet would remain intact.

But nothing would stop Lord Voldemort.

With a wave of his wand, the items that were contained inside the magical compartment— things that Slytherin considered precious, such as potions, herbs, and books—flew out and landed on the floor, as if they were rubbish. Another flick of his wand, and the floor began to rumble.

Tom could hear his followers' fearful shouts the moment the floor started to move, but his concentration wasn't on them. The magic placed on the magical compartment was resisting against his intrusion, but he wasn't going to let anyone, let alone Salazar Slytherin, best him.

He turned his wrist slightly, channeling more power into his magic. The floorboards groaned, unwilling to let go of its hold on the cupboard, but in the end, a loud crash resonated throughout the room; the strings of magic holding onto the cabinet thinned, splintered, cracked; and the magical compartment rose upwards. With a swish of his wand, the cabinet floated over and landed on a clear area in the kitchen.

Satisfaction made a cold smirk appear on Tom's face, but it dissolved when he turned around and his gaze landed on her body. Stowing his wand away, he went over to her, picked her up, and placed her inside the magical compartment. Slytherin had placed many spells, not dissimilar to the spells he had used on the Chamber of Secrets, on it. The spells prevented things from ever decaying once they were placed inside the cabinet. That was precisely why Tom had decided to use it to contain Hermione's body.

However, he needed a safe place to keep the compartment. Slytherin's cabin would not do, since Dumbledore and Grindelwald could easily find this place. Hermione was  ** _his_**  and Tom would not let them desecrate her body. Those two idiots were still searching for the Elder Wand, and he knew they wouldn't leave a part of her body unsearched. No, he needed a safe place and, preferably, a trustworthy-enough guardian to look after the magical compartment. The answer came easily to him: The Chamber of Secrets. It had an abundance of Slytherin's magic contained in it, something the magical compartment was filled with. Therefore, it should be easy for Tom to make the connection and Banish the compartment there. The Basilisk was faithful to him and him  ** _only_** , so he didn't have to worry about it allowing the presence of someone who wasn't supposed be there. The Basilisk wouldn't harm Hermione, of course, since he had specifically ordered it to not harm her. Additionally, if he needed to access the compartment, the only thing standing in his way was Dumbledore.

And Lord Voldemort was not going to let that old fool live much longer.

Tom's eyes narrowed as he recalled his old Transfiguration professor, and a vile smirk graced his handsome features, distorting it into one that belonged more to a demon than anything else. He was not going to let him get away this. That old badger was not going to get away with  ** _anything_**  anymore. Just because he hadn't bothered with that lemon drop moron didn't mean he couldn't. But everything was different now.

And by the time Lord Voldemort was done with him, Albus Dumbledore would find hell a much more preferable alternative.

~-0-~

Draco was getting frightened.

To be exact, both Draco and Ginny were getting frightened, but it was more obvious in Draco's case. After they'd finally calmed down from their mourning, Draco suggested that they immediately started to move, since he was sure that they would be pursued. He wasn't sure about Riddle, but he knew Dumbledore had seen the Elder Wand on Harry, and he was definitely going to try to hunt them down now. If Riddle hadn't caused Sparkly Eyes enough damage, he could manage to catch up to them rather quickly.

He wasn't sure what the relationship between Dumbledore and Grindelwald was now, but assuming that they were friends, that would mean someone else—a someone else with a lot of followers—would be on their backs. Again. If they weren't, on the other hand, Grindelwald probably wouldn't get the news that Hermione was dead and would still make his followers go after them.

Regardless of the situation, all Draco could see of the future was gloom, gloom, and more gloom.

However, what really, really made Draco scared was the fact that the Boy Who Lived hadn't spoken or eaten for more than a day already, nearly a day and a half to be exact. At first, Draco kept taunting and mocking him for not doing anything but standing there like a potato—being vicious was his way of dealing with sorrow, and somewhere in the back of his mind, he knew it wasn't exactly the right thing to do, but Draco really couldn't be bothered to feel guilty about it. After all, he did actually saw everything as Potter's fault. Ginny merely chided him once or twice but didn't reprimand him as much as he thought she would.

After a while, nonetheless, the lack of response from Potter slowly became more and more obvious, and Draco stopped with his sarcastic remarks. That was when he noticed those little glances Ginny sent towards Harry. Apparently, this was not something the redhead was familiar with either.

By the end of the second day, Draco couldn't take it anymore.

"Okay, Potter. Stop this nonsense. Both Weaselette and I are already bloody upset about—about the whole thing that happened already. Don't make—don't try to make us concerned about you, too," he said as he stuffed a cooked wild tuber into Harry's hand. "I'm  ** _not_**  carrying you across the snowy grounds so you better eat and get the energy you need to trek across the country, and you could be sure that I'll leave you to Grindelwald's followers if they catch up with us just because you haven't eaten enough to run faster."

Ginny had stopped in her motions and was watching the interactions between the two wizards—or lack, thereof, from Harry. When he didn't do or say anything, Draco ran his hands through his hair, frustrated, before he placed both hands on Harry's shoulders and shook him.

"Listen, Potter. You're not the only one suffering right now. I know you're sad, but starving yourself isn't going to solve any problems. The way you're going with it—"

"I'm going to kill Dumbledore," Harry finally said, his voice slightly hoarse.

Draco stopped midsentence and stared at Harry for a second.

"If Riddle doesn't do it, I will," Harry said, his eyes flickering upwards and meeting with Draco's.

Though it was quite a possibility that this might happen, given Potter's past encounters with Riddle and the determination in Potter's eyes right now, it certainly wasn't something Draco wanted to take part in. However, for all they knew, Sparkly Eyes might be dead by now. After all, judging from the look on Riddle's face before they Apparated away, Draco knew Riddle would not let Dumbledore get away with killing Hermione.

Nonetheless, if Dumbledore wasn't dead by now, Draco would rather watch on the sidelines and waited until Riddle got rid of Dumbledore for them. The Dark Lord would, without a doubt, think of some way to make Dumbledore pay for killing Hermione and escaping from his wrath, and that old coot could be sure that Draco would be buying front row tickets to the show.

Right now, however, Draco wasn't about to rain on Potter's parade—the bloke finally spoke, and that was a good sign.

"Fine," he said. "Fine. But if you don't eat, pray tell how you're going to kill Sparkly Eyes? You probably wouldn't even have enough energy to pick up your wand if he's standing right in front of you."

The forest green eyes behind those glasses watered, and without another word, Potter wolfed down the food in his hand as silent tears rolled down his cheeks. It was the first time he had cried after Hermione's death, and unexpectedly, Draco found it unbearable to watch—it made those sad emotions he had stuffed into deep corners of his heart well up, and he almost wanted to start bawling his eyes out again. So, instead, he went back to where their campfire was burning and started harshly prodding the sticks and twigs around.

Seconds later, Ginny went over to where he was sitting and handed him another cooked tuber.

"Thank you," she said softly as he accepted the tuber.

As nonchalantly as he could, he shrugged, though discomfort at being thanked by a Gryffindor caused him to shift in his position.

"We're … comrades," he answered, his eyes dimming as he used the word Hermione had used to describe them.

Ginny nodded. "But still, thank you."

She stood up, went over to sit next to Harry, and gave him some water they had melted from the snow. The wizard in question took it over the container and took a slug out of it before wiping his mouth and face with the back of his sweater. Yet, the tears he had wiped away were replaced almost immediately. Tears welled up in Ginny's eyes, and she leaned over and held onto him as he continued to cry.

"She's gone," he said moments later, his voice cracking. "How could she be gone?"

"I know, Harry. I know," Ginny said, trying to soothe him. It didn't work as well as it probably should've, since it was easy to hear that she was crying, too.

"She's gone through so many things.  ** _We've_**  gone through so many things, and she always made it through. How could she be gone, Ginny? How could she?" Harry whimpered.

Draco cringed upon hearing him use that kind of voice; it was a voice he had never heard Potter used before. He sounded so … lost, almost as if he had lost some kind of anchor.

"It's alright. Everything's going to be alright," Ginny tried to placate him, though it hardly seemed like she believed what she was saying.

Harry shook his head. "Nothing's going to be alright again, Ginny. She's gone. Hermione … she's gone."

She kissed the top of his head and hugged him as tears fell from her own eyes. Draco looked away and mopped his own face with the back of his hand as Harry occasionally mumbled something incoherently.

So much for trying to kill Dumbledore. They were in such a mess right now, and Draco could not foresee Harry going back to the way he was before anytime soon. Hermione's death seemed to have hit the Boy Who Lived really hard. Or perhaps Draco just didn't know Harry well enough yet; perhaps this pain would make him even stronger.

The only thing Draco hoped right now was that Dumbledore would be in no condition to pursue them because as it was, Harry would only be rushing to his death.

For a moment, Draco wondered if approaching Riddle would be a better idea. For one thing, the blond was positive that they were not going to try persuading Dumbledore that they were innocent—what was the point after he killed such an important friend of theirs? Grindelwald would probably kill them on the spot for nicking his wand—so that option was also dead.

So their only options were to go to Riddle or continue going off on their own. Of course, Draco, Harry, and Ginny were all good duelers with their experiences from the original and wacky timeline, but Grindelwald and Riddle both had followers. Even the best duelers could get their arses kicked if enough average-skilled wizards attacked them at the same time. Therefore, continuing to do things on their own didn't really seem like a sane idea to Draco.

Of course, there were cons about going to Riddle. He would certainly want the Elder Wand, but there were possibly ways to get around without handing it over. The idea of bargaining with the future Dark Lord was probably absurd, but at least they were somewhat on the same side right now, after what Dumbledore had done.

Riddle knew how powerful a wizard Harry was, and their duel with the trolls was enough indication that if Riddle and Harry joined forces, their chances with doing almost  ** _anything_**  was that much higher. Therefore, if he wanted to go after Dumbledore, having Harry on his side would make it a pure win situation. In addition to that, the time travelers also had the knowledge about the future—if Riddle wanted to do everything right this time around, what was better than keeping someone who knew the future around? Of course, the future would change again, but at least they knew where all the possible potholes were, and in that way, Riddle could avoid making the same mistakes all over again.

Nonetheless … Draco shut his eyes as a frown appeared on his forehead. If they went to Riddle, it would completely go against the wishes and instructions of Hermione, something that Draco wanted to avoid doing as long as he could. As it was right now, however, he couldn't think of what else to do. Casting a look at Harry and Ginny, Draco made up his mind to mention it to them one of these days, just to see their reactions and input on it. Not right now, however. Right now, their main concern was to avoid getting captured.

~-0-~

The German wizarding world was in an uproar. When the news—rumors, to be exact, first started, nobody believed it was true. After all, this was Grindelwald, the Dark Lord, you were talking about. He was nearly undefeatable, and there was only one person—Albus Dumbledore—who was rumored to have the ability to defeat him. Therefore, no one exactly took it to heart when a certain "Lord Voldemort" challenged Grindelwald. Some people even snorted at the idea that a nobody from Great Britain could take down the German Dark Lord.

Then, one particularly chilly morning, a soft, yet clear voice resounded throughout the whole German wizarding world, probably by means of the Sonorus Charm.

"Gellert Grindelwald is now my prisoner. Reporters from all forms of the German media are to gather at Nurmengard within three hours," the voice said in German. It shortly paused before it continued with a touch of vicious mockery, "All family members, friends, and …  ** _old lovers_**  of the fallen dark wizard may also attend this ceremony."

Draco, Harry, and Ginny shared a surprised look with one another when they heard this announcement.

"Did … did Riddle really, really captured Grindelwald?" Ginny asked, shocked. "How is that even possible? I know Grindelwald doesn't have the Elder Wand anymore, but he's still a powerful wizard. How did Riddle capture him?"

"No idea," Harry replied, his eyes wide with surprise.

"And Dumbledore is apparently still alive," Ginny said with a grimace.

"Do you think Pigeon Leader would show up?" Draco asked.

His nicknames for Dumbledore were no longer met with glares or verbal warnings. In fact, there were a couple of times when Ginny even joined him in making fun of their former Headmaster.

"Riddle did mention 'old lovers,'" Ginny said with a vicious grin. "I think Dumbledore would show up. After all, he did go berserk after Riddle killed Grindelwald in the wacky timeline."

"We have to go see this," Draco said, shaking his head.

Ginny raised her eyebrows at him. "Are you sure? Aren't you afraid of getting accidentally harmed in the process?"

Draco rolled his eyes. "As much as I want to avoid getting hexed, Riddle's target this time is, fortunately, Dumbles and Grindels, and Lemon Drops only has his goal set on getting his lover back and possibly killing Riddle. Regardless of the situation, I don't think it's possible to get hurt."

"Aren't you afraid of, oh, I don't know, stray spells?" Ginny teased.

"There's still a good chance of ducking away from it," Draco said with a shrug. His eyes narrowed. "I'm not missing out on the chance of watching that old coot get what's coming for him."

Harry's eyes met with his, and to Draco's surprise, the Gryffindor nodded.

"We should go," Harry said. "Even if Riddle doesn't kill Dumbledore, we'll have a better chance at killing Dumbledore if he's already preoccupied with trying to defeat Riddle."

Er … this wasn't what Draco had in mind when he suggested to go.

"Wait," he said slowly. "Are you saying that you want to move close enough to curse Dumbledore?"

"Yes," Harry said resolutely— ** _too_**  resolutely.

"No—wait—Potter, you have to think this through before doing anything," Draco immediately protested. "Riddle and Dumbledore will be dueling there. Once Dumbledore is there, how long do you think it'll take before Grindelwald gets set loose? That means it's the  ** _three_**  of them dueling. Again."

"Exactly, and it'll give us a better chance at killing Dumbledore," Harry replied. "If he didn't have Riddle distracting him, we'll probably never get a shot at it. As it is, he will be concentrating on how to save Grindelwald  ** _and_**  trying to vanquish Riddle. Remember, this was way before Trelawney made the prophecy, and—"

He looked up, and for a split second, he froze. Then, it seemed to dawn upon him again that Hermione was no longer here to confirm his theories, and a forlorn glint flashed through his eyes. Taking in a deep breath, he continued.

"This was way before Trelawney made the prophecy, and Dumbledore would've never known about the possibility of someone vanquishing Riddle. It would make sense for him to try to get rid of Riddle now, especially since Riddle captured Grindelwald."

"And Dumbledore did crack down after Riddle killed Grindelwald in the wacky timeline," Ginny added.

Harry nodded.

The look of determination on his face was frightful, and Draco couldn't help but frown at the direction this whole conversation was going.

"Look, it's ... I hope that this whole thing will work out. Hell, if Dumbledore dies today, I might as well hug Riddle," Draco said.

Ginny raised her eyebrows. "I'm sure he would be appreciative of that, so much that he might just curse you next."

"That's beside the point, but what I'm trying to say is, can't we just stand on the side and watch what Riddle does before jumping in? I mean, maybe he might actually kill Dumbledore before we need to do anything. The old coot is trying to save Grindelwald, after all, so maybe he'll get so distracted that he'll get cursed by Riddle," Draco said.

Harry had a look of deep thought on his face, as if there were some internal struggling going on. In the end, however, he shook his head, much to Draco's dismay.

"We'll probably have a higher chance at it if Dumbledore gets distracted. He thinks that I'm the master of the Elder Wand, and if he sees me—"

"Are you mad!" both Ginny and Draco yelled at the same time, causing him to stop.

As Ginny continued berating Potter for his moronic thoughts and reminding him how the three of them were in this together, Draco couldn't help but find it amusing, more so because he was annoyed about how inconsiderate Potter was being. It was simply because Draco was worried for his own hide. He was a Slytherin after all. It was not because he cared about Potter … of course not.

Draco couldn't help but reminded how the Dark Lord had been obsessed about the prophecy, too. Perhaps Potter was much more like the Dark Lord than he was willing to let on.

After a brief argument between the two Gryffindors, Harry's face softened, and he grabbed Ginny's hand with his own. "I'm sorry. But you have to promise me, if there's any danger at all—"

"We'll all escape. Together," Ginny answered.

And they could be sure that Draco would be trying all he could to prevent that "danger" from happening.

~-0-~

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **A/N** : Many thanks to my betas, Marauder's Wolf and Nerys!


	58. Chapter 58

**Chapter 58**

Lord Voldemort was waiting.

A cruel smirk graced his features as he overlooked the wizarding town beneath him from the highest floor of Nurmengard. Though he could not clearly see the people's faces, he could see how they would tilt their heads up to peek at the highest point of the prison before quickly lowering them again. Several times, children would glance curiously at his Knights, but their parents would quickly turn their heads away, as if they were worried that by simply looking, their children would get cursed. The unease and fear oozed from the commoners and flooded the atmosphere, and he relished it.

"He's not going to come," a voice spoke up behind him, disrupting the faux peace hanging in the room.

Tom turned around, the smirk not so much as wavering, and glanced at the man shackled to the wall. His gaze turned into one of admiration as he took in what he and his followers had done to the previous German Dark Lord. A dark red stained the rags that were once part of an extravagantly regal cloak, clinging to his body. More blood clumped his hair together and coagulated on his face around areas where he had been wounded. Some of it was still dripping from his forehead, causing him to close one of his eyes to block it out. The smell of excretion and urine hung heavily in the stale air, though Tom didn't bother to block out the smell: It was proof that he had subdued one of the most powerful dark wizards in history.

"Is that what you think?" he asked slowly, running a finger down his yew wand.

"You think you understand people well enough," Grindelwald said with a cough. "But the truth is you'll never understand them as well as you think. It's all in your head. You think you can manipulate people to do what you want, but you don't realize that no two persons are the same. Dumbledore would've seen through your plan. He would know that you were aiming at him with that message."

While he spoke, Tom's smirk continued to grow, until the end, when he just started to laugh, a high, cold laugh that didn't go with his features at all. That stopped Grindelwald from talking; instead, he stared at Tom, a small flame of disbelief and anger building at the back of his usually jovial blue eyes.

"Haven't you realized, Gellert Grindelwald? I knew exactly what would go through his mind when I sent out that message. I knew he would know that I was baiting him. However, apparently, you don't know him as well as you think you do," he said, a victorious glint in his eyes.

On that note, he swept over to the window and looked outside, resting his arm on the windowsill. In another hour, reporters from all over the country would gather here. After all, if he had lied, Grindelwald was not going to sit back and allow people to think that he'd gotten captured. Either way, the curiosity in humans would not allow them to skip this gathering.

Tom's real target, however, was Dumbledore. He was positive that Dumbledore would eventually show up. Even if he didn't appear today, he would once he saw what would happen to Grindelwald, and Tom would personally make sure that what was going to happen to Grindelwald would appear on the front page of every newspaper there was.

However, Tom knew he was thinking too much. Dumbledore would show up today.

"You've never understood Dumbledore as much as you think you do," Tom said, almost to himself as he watched two people Apparate into the village below. "You've always assumed that just because he argued with you, that just because he hadn't joined you in your revolution, it meant that he didn't care about you. The curious thing was you know he loved you and you yourself exploited it. How can you possibly think that he wouldn't come to your rescue when you are in danger?" He paused. "Then again, that might be your way to dissuade me."

He turned his head slightly, so that he was looking at Grindelwald from the corner of his eye.

"Nothing's going to save you now, Gellert. Even if Dumbledore appears today, I'm not going to let you go," he said.

"Then kill me," Grindelwald said, his eyes solemn and hard.

An ugly sneer marred Tom's face, and he narrowed his eyes at his prisoner. "Did you think that I'll let you die so easily? Killing you would've allowed you an easy way out. Lord Voldemort can be merciful, but only to those who had earned that privilege. What your precious Dumbledore did used up all of the remaining patience I've had with him and anyone remotely associated with him. No, I will teach him the true meaning of feeling sorry, and I won't stop until he's broken. By the time I'm through with you, he will understand what happens when he decides to cross Lord Voldemort's path. Just because I haven't bothered to deal with him in the past, doesn't mean I do not have the ability to do so. After today, I will make sure that he has that information ingrained in his head."

Instead of fear, Grindelwald chuckled. "You are naïve, lad. Naïve and ignorant. Did you truly believe that you can break Dumbledore down like this? Ignoring the fact that he's intelligent enough to know that this is a trap, did you really think that you can defeat Dumbledore in a duel? If you do, then you are far more senseless than I'd thought you were."

Tom's grip tightened around his wand, and for a moment, he considered Cruciating Grindelwald right then and there. But he quickly suppressed that urge.

"A bit more patience, Gellert," he said quietly. "It's not time for your debut yet. We wouldn't want you start … performing before it's time for the show to begin now, do we? However, I gladly accept your generosity in granting me another thing for me to discipline you in. The art of holding one's tongue is difficult, but I daresay that by the end of the day, you'll learn that silence is gold."

~-0-~

Lord Voldemort did not like to be disappointed.

Of course, nobody liked disappointment. However, to him, it represented something much more—it represented failure, and that word should  ** _not_**  exist in Lord Voldemort's world.

Especially when said disappointment was caused by none other than that crazy, old bat who called himself a Transfiguration professor.

And now, that equally insane German, self-proclaimed Dark Lord was smirking there as if he were correct.

A soft knock on the prison door interrupted Tom's train of thought on how to punish Grindelwald, and seconds later, Abraxas entered the room and knelt down in front of him.

"My Lord, the representatives of most of the major media companies have arrived," he reported after paying due respects to his master. Casting a quick glance at Tom, he then added, "No signs of Dumbledore yet."

A soft chuckle from Grindelwald caused a crack in Tom's patience.

"Did I ask for that information?" he snapped.

Somehow, Abraxas managed to bow even further down than before and stuttered, "N-no, my-my Lord—I—I simply th-thought that—you w-would want th-that info-formation."

"Enough," Tom spat out.

He swirled around and flicked his wand at the wall to which Grindelwald's shackles were attached to. A sound similar to that of a giant hammer pounding a boulder sounded throughout the room, causing Abraxas to jerk back in fright. With another swish of Tom's wand, the wall started to move forward—or rather, the section to which the shackles were nailed into started to move forward, until it was approximately five feet away from where it previously was.

"Levitate Herr Gellert Grindelwald to the empty grounds in front of the prison outside," Tom instructed, with a hint of mockery when he spoke the German Dark Lord's name. "Do not release him from his bindings. If he escapes, I will hold you fully responsible."

Ignoring Abraxas's incoherent, panicky promises, Tom went back to the window. His pale, long fingers slowly curled inwards until the nails dug into the flesh of his palm as he narrowed his eyes at the gathering crowd below.

The villagers were obviously wary about this gathering. Regardless of whether or not they supported Grindelwald's views, Lord Voldemort was a foreigner, and they had no idea what the plans of this foreigner were. Therefore, there were hardly any children in the crowd. Many parents had left them at home, worried that the youngsters would become a liability if things turned for the worse.

A flicker of movement caught his eyes, and he turned his attention there, only to be disappointed. He had hoped that it would've been someone who could be connected to Dumbledore if it weren't the Headmaster himself. However, it was just three random villagers.

For a moment, he wondered if Potter and his friends would show up. After all, after what had happened, he doubted they would continue siding with Dumbledore. From the top of the prison, it was impossible to see clearly who was standing in the crowd. However, there was something about these three random villagers that caught his attention. Perhaps it was the way they held themselves. Regardless, he would have to remember to keep an eye on them.

His attention went back to Antonin Dolohov, who was patrolling and managing the crowd rather well. Tom's lips curved upwards as he watched Dolohov directed one villager to move further away from the stage they had set up for the upcoming show. It was unfortunate that amongst his followers, the smart and intelligent were far and few in between. Thankfully, Dolohov was one of the smarter ones, so Tom didn't have to worry too much about giving him some tasks. However …

His eyes momentarily hardened when he thought of his Mudblood, but he quickly pushed those feelings away. He didn't want the anger to overtake him again, since he wanted to take his time with Gellert Grindelwald. He was going to establish his status as the superior being with this showcase and let every person know what it meant to cross Lord Voldemort's path. So, he concentrated on viewing the crowd below again.

Indeed, there was still no sign of the old coot.

No matter. His lover would pay for his sins then.

The vicious smile reappeared on his handsome features at that thought—the show was about to begin.

~-0-~

The sounds ceased the moment his Knights parted way to let Lord Voldemort pass. The wall holding down Grindelwald was situated right in the middle of the stage the Knights had set up in front of Nurmengard. Several of the Knights had their wands out and at the ready, presumably to stop Grindelwald from escaping.

Tom's eyes momentarily landed on Abraxas, who also had his wand out and pointed towards the German Dark Lord. Tom wondered what Abraxas had told the other Knights. Judging by how slippery a person Abraxas was, Tom guessed it had to be something along the lines of how infuriated the Dark Lord would be at all of them if Grindelwald disappeared on them.

Rather than annoyance, amusement flickered across Tom's eyes. After all, he didn't really care what steps Abraxas took as long as the job was done.

Slowly but confidently, Lord Voldemort glided up to the center of the stage where Grindelwald was situated. Meanwhile, his eyes found out the three random villagers he had secretly vowed to watch out for, and that almost made him lose his composure.

Really, if Potter and his friends thought that they could trick people like that, Tom wondered how in the world did the Lord Voldemort of the future get defeated by someone like him. Of course, after the few times he'd dueled with Potter and the "adventures" they'd previously had led Tom to deduce that Potter was magically competent, but when it came to tactics and planning …

The absurdity of Potter defeating the future him nearly made Tom throw a fit right then and there. Nonetheless, he managed to push his anger down. For the moment.

But really, a few Coloring Charms on their hairs and eyes? Granted, it did make them look slightly different, and Tom supposed that they've attempted to use some kind of Distortion Spell on their features, but it was utterly easy for Tom to see through their façade.

Resisting the urge to roll his eyes again, he looked away from them, lest it became too obvious that he had found out their "secret"; Tom was curious as to what they would and could do if Dumbledore did show up today.

Towering over the incapacitated German Dark Lord, Tom could no longer suppress a smirk from appearing on his face as he stared at the withered face of Gellert Grindelwald. The sky-blue eyes that stared back at him hardened, and much to Tom's delight, there was a hint of sadness.

"He's not going to show up," Grindelwald said firmly.

Instead of making Tom's fury increase, it only caused his smirk to widen. Without giving Grindelwald an answer, he swiveled his head around to face the audience, his face wiped clean of emotions.

"This is your Lord and Master," Tom said in German, "Gellert Grindelwald."

He paused, allowing the information to sink into the minds of the people standing there. His dark eyes roved over the crowd, taking in each and every person's expression as representatives from the different forms of media took tentative pictures of the chained wizard.

"I, Lord Voldemort, have defeated him and have taken him as my prisoner," Tom continued, purposely ignoring those whom he had recognized as Grindelwald's followers. "His reign has fallen, and his followers are now in hiding."

Eyes widened, and the hushed silence seemed to be even more pronounced as a gentle breeze blew across the grounds, sweeping some snow onto people and ruffling others' hair. It was far too easy for Tom to deduce why surprise was the dominant feeling in the crowd. After all, he was young, and Grindelwald was someone like a legend to these people—undefeatable and all-powerful. Not to mention the fact that many of Grindelwald's followers were excellent duelers and strategists as well. In comparison, Tom's Knights appeared just as young and inexperienced as their leader, which worked perfectly well for Tom. After all, it was much easier to defeat an opponent once they underestimated you.

"I am not aiming to dictate a world of chaos and destruction," Tom said. "It is unnecessarily harder to pick up the pieces and create a new world from them. Therefore, I do not want to and will not go on a pointless rampage unless I am provoked. With that being said, I do not expect each and every one of you to follow me and give me your loyalty, but take note that I will not allow those who defy me to go unpunished."

He turned towards Grindelwald and circled slowly around him like a predator closing in on its prey. Nonetheless, his face remained calmly nonchalant, as if he were doing something as simple as strolling down a street, until he was standing directly behind him. A corner of his lips curved upwards as he stared down at his prisoner.

"In any other circumstances, I would've allowed you a quick and maybe painless death. However, the chances of that happening had been nullified by your 'best friend,'" Tom taunted Grindelwald quietly.

A humph left Grindelwald's lips, and without turning his head, he said, "I've never expected anything less. Do your worst, lad. It's not anything I haven't seen before."

The mocking undertone in his voice was infuriating at first, but then, a smile found its place on Tom's face.

"Isn't that what they all say? We'll just have to see how much of that courage remains after I'm through with you. I'll have you begging for death on the grounds, Gellert Grindelwald."

With a flick of his wand, a curse hit Grindelwald straight in the chest, causing him to writhe on the floor. Despite the pain, a bark-like laugh left Grindelwald's lips.

"The … the Cruciatus … did you … did you think that … that would be enough … enough to break me down?" he asked.

Though pain was apparent on his face, he still managed to emit sounds similar to laughs.

Tom laughed coldly. "That's just the appetizer, Gellert, to get you ready for the main course."

And true to his words, he spent the next couple of hours going through different "demonstrations" of curses to the German crowd. At some point, the few children that were allowed to come were dragged into their mothers' embraces and had their eyes covered. Yet, no one dared to protest against what happened on the stage. It did not matter if it were because they feared Lord Voldemort or because they hated Grindelwald; at the end of the day, every single person would remember what would happen if they stood in Lord Voldemort's way.

As Tom stood over Grindelwald's mangled body, a satisfied smile finally replaced the sneer on his face.

"Any last words, oh dear Gellert, before I send you to your death?" he asked mockingly, as if he were simply asking if the other party wanted tea.

Despite how his face was all scrunched up from agony and how labored his breath was, Grindelwald still managed to crack open his eyes and gave Tom a jeering smile.

"You need not worry, Gellert Grindelwald. I shall send your lover down to hell to reunite with you soon," Tom said softly before he whipped his wand through the air.

Right before he could end Grindelwald's life, a loud crack resounded through the air. Gasps erupted through the air as someone materialized out of thin air right on the platform, five feet away from Grindelwald.

It was Albus Dumbledore.

A sneer distorted Tom's features as with a slight quirk of his wand, he changed the direction of his curse, and the flash of green light rushed towards Dumbledore instead.

Waving the wand above his head, Dumbledore Disapparated from where he was standing, only to reappear closer to Grindelwald. He reached out for his friend, but another brown-colored light rushed towards where his arm was extending, and he was forced to move aside to avoid injuring his arm.

Anger flashed through Dumbledore's eyes, and with a swish of his arm, he brought his wand above his head again. Before he could cast, however, three different voices echoed through the air, and three different shades of light dashed towards him.

" _Protego_!" Dumbledore cast, seconds before the three different curses collided with his shield.

His blue eyes roved over the crowd and it merely took seconds, if not less, for realization to dawn over his face.

Potter and his friends.

The look on Dumbledore's face quickly switched over to calculation, and Tom knew it was because Potter must be wielding the Elder Wand. With a flick of his wand, he threw another hex towards Dumbledore. After all, distraction worked best when trying to prevent someone to think.

The flash of cyan blue got Dumbledore's attention, and he immediately moved to the side to avoid the spell and placed his concentration back on Tom. Dumbledore now had both hands on his wand and slashed it through the air until it was pointing towards the sky. The tip of his wand glowed a sinister red color before a streak of light zapped upwards into the sky. Seconds later, a flash of lightning crashed down on Tom, who Disapparated on the spot before reappearing much closer to where Potter and his friends were standing.

Just in case the old fool wanted it to use it as a ploy to get the Elder Wand.

Villagers screamed and vacated the area when they realized that the area had become a battleground. A condescending sneer marred Tom's face as he stared at where Dumbledore should be standing. Debris and ashes whirled and whizzed around, obscuring the view. And then, Tom realized the glitch—Grindelwald was perfectly hidden behind all the darkness, too.

Tom slashed his wand through the air, and a strong gust of wind blew towards the platform, successfully clearing the view. Before Dumbledore could reach out to Grindelwald, Tom flicked three hexes, one right after the other, towards his former Transfiguration professor. The streams of light were immediately deflected by swishes of Dumbledore's wand. However, that moment of distraction allowed Tom to cast more spells towards Dumbledore.

All the while, Potter and his friends threw spells towards Dumbledore, too. Tom wanted to stop Potter from doing so, since it would undoubtedly give Dumbledore a chance at getting the wand; there were so many times when Potter could've lost the wand, and Dumbledore seemed to notice this, too, judging from the expressions on his face.

Tom's predictions were proven true when Dumbledore started to concentrate his attacks towards Potter instead.

Now that wouldn't do. The Elder Wand belonged to Lord Voldemort.

Suddenly, a shout to the side caught Tom's attention. A group of wizards, led by Meinhardt and his son, was attacking his Knights. An exasperated sigh left Tom's lips; he knew he should've killed that arrogant, old fool instead of letting him hang at the brink of death. But he couldn't dwell on that right now; he had to concentrate on Dumbledore and Grindelwald.

He turned his attention back to Dumbledore, only to find that the latter was near Grindelwald's side now. Far too close. With a snarl, he flung a curse towards the duo, only to be answered by a victorious smile from Dumbledore before Disapparating with Grindelwald.

The snarl turned into an infuriated scream.

"Dumbledore's escaped," he heard Potter yell over the noise.

If anything, that only made Tom's ire rose; Lord Voldemort did not need that him to inform him that. He could see just fine.

Swirling around, he aimed his wand at the unfortunate scapegoat on site: Paulos Meinhardt. It did not matter that the other followers of Grindelwald flocked in, trying to protect their momentary leader. Before long, they would understand what it meant to earn the wrath of Lord Voldemort.

~-0-~

Blood splattered everywhere. It wasn't really the first time Ginny had experienced bloodshed—she'd seen enough of it in the wacky future—but this was beyond anything she had ever seen, including the battle between the Knights and Grindelwald's followers just weeks ago and the final battle at Hogwarts in the original timeline. Judging from the pale look on Draco's face, it was probably the same for him, too.

All the while, Paulos Meinhardt and his son were incapacitated by the Knights, and they were forced to watch as each and every one of their friends were tortured and killed before them.

At some point in time, Ginny had to close her eyes to avoid watching the expressions of pain on Grindelwald's followers' faces. It did not matter that they did play a part in Hermione's death; at the end of the day, they weren't the main culprit.

"Back to the cabin," Riddle ordered coldly after the last surviving follower was slaughtered.

Strangely enough, he didn't seem to acknowledge the time travelers' presence; he did not so much as glance towards them. However, Ginny would bet her wand that Riddle noticed each and every one of their moves.

"Riddle," Harry suddenly called out, and Ginny picked up her head and stared at him.

Briefly, he glanced towards her, and gritting her teeth together, she nodded towards him, giving him her approval, since somewhere in the back of her mind, she knew what he was about to do. Not that he needed her approval. No, that wasn't how Harry worked. Her support was just that—support. It was something to help him along the long, difficult road they were about to embark on and let him know that she felt that he was making the right decision, too.

Gratitude and relief appeared on Harry's face, and he shifted his attention back to Riddle.

"Potter," Riddle replied, turning around on the spot to look at the three time travelers.

"We need to speak with you," Harry said.

Smug satisfaction flashed through Riddle's eyes, and Ginny pushed away all thoughts of turning back. She had her heart set on getting this done, and so did Harry. Draco turned even paler than before when he finally realized what Harry was going to do. However, he didn't make any moves to stop them.

"Take Herr Meinhardt and his son back to the cabin and guard them," Riddle instructed Dolohov.

"Yes, my Lord," Dolohov answered with a nod before he Disapparated with the rest of the Knights.

Then, the four of them were the only ones left. It wasn't particularly comfortable to Ginny, standing amidst piles of dead bodies—or rather, body parts. Nonetheless, she determinedly stared at Riddle and waited for the negotiation between Harry and Riddle to begin.

Heaving a sigh, Harry finally spoke, "I don't want to beat around the bushes—all four of us want Dumbledore dead for—"

He swallowed, as if it was particularly hard to continue what he was saying.

"—we all want him dead for the same reason, and … I've thought about it in the last couple of days. The best way to go about it is to join forces with one another."

Riddle gazed at Harry for a couple of seconds before saying, "What makes you believe that I might need your help in defeating Albus Dumbledore, Potter?"

"I would rather the mind games be kept to a minimum, Riddle. You know that we're from the future, and we know more about what will happen with each move you take more than you do," Harry said.

"Then you should also realize that you're changing the future as we speak," said Riddle.

Harry nodded. "It is, but not everything will change. The three of us have memories from both the original and the … wacky timeline."

Riddle's lips quirked upwards upon hearing the word "wacky." Other than that, his expression remained unchanged.

Momentarily, a frown appeared on Ginny's face. There was something … off about Riddle's demeanor, but she couldn't put her finger on it.

"Therefore, we have the best chance at guessing what will happen with each step you make. You wouldn't want to make the same errors in this timeline as you did in the two other timelines," Harry pointed out.

Riddle's eyes narrowed for a brief moment. "Your proposal seems reasonable, but … I fail to see what I could benefit from obliging you. You, on the other hand, have nothing to lose and everything to gain from this plan."

"You know how powerful our spells could be if we work together. I'm not saying that it will be simple to defeat Dumbledore, but it will make things easier. He's saved Grindelwald, so he must've returned to Hogwarts. You know how strong the wards are there, and if Dumbledore manages to heal Grindelwald, you'll be facing two opponents instead of one," Harry pointed out.

"That makes things much more difficult for you as well," Riddle mused, a thoughtful look on his face.

"That's why I suggested to—"

Riddle held up his hand as impassivity slid over his features once more. "As tempting as your plan might be, I have no guarantee in regards to where your true loyalties lie. You may very well be—"

"You cannot seriously be suggesting that we—Hermione's our friend, the last thing we will do is remain loyal to the person who killed her," Ginny snapped.

For a short moment, her fear for him returned full force as those bottomless, dark eyes gazed at her, as if they were searching deep within her soul—much like the diary Horcrux had done to her. However, she shook it aside and glared determinedly back at him.

"My apologies, I did not mean to imply that you will do something that might dishonor her memory," Riddle said.

"We're not taking the Mark, if that's what you're getting at," said Harry, attracting Riddle's attention back to him.

The two of them stared at one another for what seemed like an eternity, neither of them willing to back down. Harry's proposal was alluring to Riddle, to say the least. After all, if Harry decided to join him, he would've gained a powerful accomplice when it came down to defeating Dumbledore and taking over Hogwarts. Once Dumbledore was defeated and Hogwarts had fallen, it would only be a matter of time before the wizarding world fell to Riddle's feet. However, they all knew how obsessive Riddle was with marking what he considered his. If the three of them—well, two of them, since Draco already had the Mark—if the two of them didn't take the Mark, he would feel insecure about his hold on them.

"A simple mark cannot possibly guarantee where our loyalties lie. Some of your Death Eaters—what you call your Knights in the future—had the Dark Mark, but they still betrayed you in the end. We take what we say seriously, and when we say that we will do anything to help you conquer Dumbledore, we mean it," Harry said, breaking the silence.

"You seem to think that the Mark simply serves as a way for my followers to show their loyalties. It's merely an … easier way for them to know when I require their services," Riddle said, his expression indecipherable.

Not to mention excruciatingly painful and irritating when said "follower" did not show up.

"We can do it some other way, just like—" Harry took in a deep breath. "—just like the way Hermione used, with the Protean Charm on a Galleon."

_Or like the way she placed the charm on our necklaces._

However, the time travelers had no idea how much they wanted Riddle to know about the necklaces. Ginny assumed that was why Harry kept quiet about it.

"A Protean Charm on a Galleon?" Riddle asked, raising an eyebrow before a faint smile appeared on his face. "Only she would think of something like that."

She hadn't been imagining it; there was something definitely wrong with how Riddle was reacting. As if seeking for confirmation, Ginny glanced towards Draco, who also happened to be looking at her. Apparently, he was finding something about Riddle strange, too.

"I suppose I can be lenient enough to grant you your wish of not receiving the Mark immediately," Riddle said, and it didn't escape their notice that he slipped in a time limit in his words. "However, we also have another issue."

As if on cue, Ginny and Draco's eyes fell on the wand firmly within Harry's grasp.

"You want the Elder Wand," Harry said straightforwardly.

Riddle gazed at him before giving a short nod. "That is obvious."

Harry paused for a short moment, presumably thinking over the consequences and weighing the pros and cons. In the end, he closed his eyes and heaved a deep sigh.

"Hermione wanted us to keep the Elder Wand safe—"

"And you think that the wand will be safer in your hands than mine?" interrupted Riddle, raising an eyebrow and mockery laced throughout his words.

Harry opened his eyes and stared at Riddle. Slowly, he said, "I can't tell you if it would be safer or not, but …"

The world would be a much safer place.

Those words remained unspoken, but each of the time travelers knew that was what was going through Harry's mind. It was the one thing that was troubling him—Lord Voldemort's reign of terror. What if they inadvertently helped him in creating another hell on Earth?

Suddenly, Ginny wished that they had talked about this beforehand. At least they would've worked out something like a plan for this.

A short, cold laugh left Riddle's lips. "Potter, you were the one who requested a discussion with me, one which I kindly granted, and you were the one who proposed to defeat Dumbledore alongside of me. Yet, here you are now, denying any and all requests that I have. This is not a negotiation."

"I can give you the Elder Wand under one condition," Harry said.

"And that is?" asked Riddle.

"We make an Unbreakable Vow."

Amusement flickered across Riddle's eyes, and he tilted his head to one side. "The conditions?"

Harry swallowed and said, "We all know what your intentions for the wand are, but we don't want the people we care about to be harmed—"

"Potter, that is just ridiculous. Do you know the full extent of your condition? For Merlin's sake, Granger even supported house-elves' rights. Who knows what other kind of riffraff you lot care about?" Riddle said with a roll of his eyes.

Harry paused before nodding. "We're not going to completely limit you in … your casting or ambitions. However, we would like a chance to at least try and talk them into not opposing us."

"You do know that most people are stubborn when it comes down to their beliefs and so-called morals," Riddle said.

"It doesn't hurt to try. There are some who would listen if the person talking to them is a familiar face, someone they'd known—"

"Potter, you've said it yourself: The future is changing. Pray tell, how would most of my opponents know you in this new timeline that we will be creating?"

Surprisingly, Harry smiled. "That's the point. We know things from the two different timelines. If I'm not wrong, most people might change drastically under certain conditions, but there are still certain traits that remain. If we can use those things to our advantages, you will have even more willing followers and lesser enemies."

Riddle eyed him quietly, as if he were digesting what Harry had told him.

"If it's obvious that talking to them is not possible … we won't stand in your way," Harry added with a sense of resoluteness to his words.

"You do know that this will make things unnecessarily more difficult for me," Riddle said slowly.

"Your main goal is to gain power and control over the wizarding world. If you manage to do so in a seemingly benevolent manner, less people will find reason to rise up against you. The death rate will be kept to a minimum, and you'll find yourself with less trouble," replied Harry. "Reasoning with the first wave of resistance might be more tedious, but in a long run, there will be more advantages than disadvantages."

Riddle fell silent again, and after what seemed like an eternity, he asked, "What are your other conditions?"

"The safety of the three of us," Harry said. "We hope that you can promise that you'll never turn your wand on us."

Draco looked as if Christmas had come early when he heard Harry's words.

~-0-~

"I could bloody kiss you, Potter, for slipping in that condition about our safety," Draco said as he tried to find a more comfortable spot on the floor after they've placed wards and  _Muffliato_  on the room they were staying in.

They were once again brought to Slytherin's cabin. Perhaps it had something to do with the Vow, or perhaps Riddle was just in a better mood, but he offered to let them stay in one of the guestrooms in the cabin. However, since each of the time travelers were still wary about any kindness coming from Riddle, with or without the Vow, they decided to stay in the same room they had stayed in the last time they were there, much to Draco's displeasure and to Riddle's amusement.

He had also "kindly" consented to their presence at Meinhardt's trial—which translates to "torture session for Meinhardt and his son" in the time travelers' minds. However, they politely declined.

"But are you sure it's wise to promise him his conditions?" Ginny asked Harry, concerned. "Giving him the Elder Wand is one thing, since I doubt he would've wanted to talk if we told him no, and he might've just attacked us right then. But unwavering loyalty, not allowing harm to be done to him when it's within our power to stop it …"

"I've thought about it while we were heading to Nurmengard," Harry answered. "Allegiance was the first thing I thought Riddle would be asking—"

"You were right about that," Draco muttered, rubbing his left forearm subconsciously.

"—and it's obvious that the whole plan would've fallen through if we couldn't give him our loyalties. Besides, he'd given us a leeway when he promised not to harm the ones we cared about," Harry said.

"Yes, but that's all it is—a limitation. He's never said how long he'll give us before he kills them," Ginny pointed out.

"There are three of us. As long as one of us hasn't gotten a chance to talk to the prisoner, the prisoner remains safe," Harry said.

"Oh," Draco said, blinking twice as he stared at Harry. "That's … quite a brilliant loophole there, Potter."

"But doesn't that contradict with the whole idea of loyalty?" asked Ginny.

"No, it doesn't," Harry said, shaking his head. "After all, we're still trying to help him with his goal, and if killing the prisoner isn't crucial to his safety or his goal, then we won't break the Vow."

"But what about the whole … thing about not allowing harm to be done to him? What if he does something completely insane, something that completely goes against your morals?" Draco asked.

"I think is his main aim is to gain power. We saw how he was like in the two different timelines, each with different ways of achieving the same goal. So if we can keep the death rates to a minimum, perhaps things wouldn't turn out too bad. Besides, if … if Hermione were here, she wouldn't want to see Riddle killed," Harry said with some difficulty.

"Very optimistic there, Potter," Draco muttered.

"But didn't you find it weird?" Ginny asked with a frown.

"What?" asked Harry.

"Your whole … conversation with him," Ginny said. "His whole attitude, his whole … everything. It just doesn't seem right. We could probably say with certainty that he doesn't have affections and he's, without doubt, excellent at hiding his emotions, but he didn't seem the least bit bothered by Hermione's … Hermione's death."

A look of deep thinking appeared on Harry's face as he contemplated Ginny's words.

"Yeah, I found it strange that he was talking about her so casually," Draco agreed. "He was talking about her as if she were still around … though that could be attributed to his mental state."

Ginny shook her head. "No … there seems to be something more to the whole thing."

"Do you mean she might still be alive?" Harry asked. "I mean, we haven't seen her body, and we immediately Apparated out of the forest when Riddle appeared."

"I think … I think we can be sure that Hermione's …" Ginny trailed off in her words. Closing her eyes, she shook her head before continuing, "But I'm wondering …"

"What?" Draco asked impatiently.

Ginny shook her head again. "I don't remember your whole conversation with Hermione exactly, but I remember that day while Slytherin was keeping us imprisoned, the two of you were saying something about the Coin of Charon—"

Harry sat up straight, his eyes wide. "You mean, Riddle's going to try to bring Hermione back to life?"

"Wait, but isn't everything about the Coin of Charon just a legend? Nobody knows it for sure," Draco said. "That's what Hermione said."

"Yeah, but a lot of things that were supposed to be legend turned out true, too. I mean, who would've thought that a one-year-old toddler really did manage to vanquish You-Know-Who," Ginny said, a smile lingering at the corner of her lips.

"But Dumbledore  ** _said_**  that there is no magic in the world that can bring the dead back to life. He told me that back in first year," Harry said.

Draco shrugged. "I'm not too certain about this Coin of Charon business either, Potter, because I've only heard about it from Hermione. Before then, I only knew the name. But I've said this once and I'll say it again: Dumbledore can't possibly know everything about the world. He didn't know everything that can happen with time travel either."

"Well, we didn't actually ask him about time travel back in our original timeline. And besides, he's always cryptic about everything he says, so we don't know for sure how much he knows about time travel and changing timelines," Harry pointed out. "But he said for  ** _certain_**  that the dead can't come back to life."

"To be honest, I doubt he knew too much about changing timelines because with a personality like his, I can't imagine him sitting back and doing  ** _nothing_**  at all if he knew that timelines can be changed. And about 'no magic can bring the dead back to life,' that could be his own bias, just because he couldn't bring his sister back to from the dead," Draco pointed out. Then, an imaginary light bulb lit up above his head. "And have you thought about it? Maybe he just wanted to spread that rumor around so that nobody would search for the Coin of Charon and he would have a higher chance at finding it, so that he could bring his sister back to life."

Harry frowned, a doubtful expression on his face before it changed to one of confusion. "I don't know. I mean … I want to think that I can trust Dumbledore, but after … after …"

Ginny sighed. "I don't think it's a matter of trust here, Harry. He did adore you back in the original timeline—"

"I'd have to disagree with that, Weaselette. He pitted a teenager against the Dark Lord with subtle hints that are hardly any help if you think about it. If Potter didn't have Granger beside him, he would've died, twenty times over. I think that Dumbledore's just selfish at the end of the day, and he just 'cares' about who's useful to him. Not much better than the Dark Lord, if you ask me," Draco pointed out.

"We don't know that for sure," Ginny argued, though there was doubt in her eyes, too.

Draco shrugged again. "Well, that's beside the point, and it won't help us any nearer to solving the question about the Coin of Charon. I don't know about you two, but you can be sure that I'm hoping that that legend about the Coin of Charon is true."

~-0-~

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **A/N** : Many thanks to my betas, Marauder's Wolf and Nerys! Huge thanks to those of you who've read, gave kudos, bookmarked, and especially to Via for commenting!


	59. Chapter 59

**Chapter 59**

The time travelers doubted that Riddle would tell them the truth anyway, so they didn't bother asking him about the Coin of Charon. However, regardless of whether or not the legend of the Coin of Charon was true, they knew that they had to help him defeat Dumbledore.

"I can't let him hurt anyone around me anymore," Harry had said. "It's one thing if he kills me—"

"Don't say that, Harry!" Ginny had hissed on the side.

"—but it's a whole different story if he gets the Elder Wand and finds out that it's not working properly for him either. If we don't help Riddle get rid of Dumbledore, Dumbledore'll find out sooner or later who the true master of the Elder Wand is. I can't let him anyone important to me anymore. I can't. Not after—not after—"

Therefore, their relationship with Riddle could be considered, up to this point, surprisingly civil. However, Riddle hadn't discussed with them about how to go about cornering and defeating Dumbledore either. The days continue to slip by, and the time travelers started to worry, anxious that time would allow Dumbledore to fully heal Grindelwald.

"But doesn't Potter have the invisibility cloak? And doesn't he know all those little routes that can take him from Hogsmeade to Hogwarts? Wouldn't all of those be advantages to us?" Draco asked one day in their warded "bedroom."

"Dumbledore must be back at Hogwarts, so I doubt he's going to leave the secret passages unguarded," Harry answered, shaking his head.

"Does the old coot know all the secret passages that you know though? Or does he only know some of them?" Draco asked.

Harry frowned. "I don't know. The Marauder's Map hasn't been made yet, and I don't think all the passageways have been discovered yet. But I can't be sure because Dumbledore never told me if he knew about all the passageways or not."

"And it's not only about getting attacked. There's a high possibility that they might put some kind trap at each secret passageway to harm us before we can get in," Ginny reminded them.

"Well, can't we just suggest for Riddle to go in first? He has Horcruxes, doesn't he? So he can't die if he were to fall into some trap," Draco said.

"I'm sure Riddle will find your concern for his safety heart-warming," Ginny said dryly.

"And I'm not too sure about handing over the invisibility cloak to Riddle. He already had the Elder Wand, and I have no idea where he's hiding the Resurrection Stone—I saw him wear it back at Hogwarts but not anymore. I reckon he'd hidden it, since he's afraid that it might get destroyed or something when he's dueling with someone. If he has my invisibility cloak, he'll have the chance of becoming the Master of Death, and I don't really fancy that happening," Harry said.

"But what else can we do? I mean … for all we know, Dumbledore might just sit behind those Hogwarts's wards and refuse to come out, waiting for Grindelwald to fully recover before attacking all of us," Draco said, throwing his hands up in the air. Suddenly, an idea came to him. "I should've thought of it at the first moment—why don't we just use the Vanishing Cabinet again?"

"Good idea, Malfoy, but the thing is, there's no one inside of Hogwarts to help us fix it this time around," Ginny pointed out.

"Oh … right," Draco said with a frown.

Harry's face, on the other hand, brightened. "No! Draco's right!"

In his excitement, he didn't notice that he had used Draco's first name instead of his surname. However, neither Draco nor Ginny were concerned about that at the moment; they were more curious about why he found the plan possible.

"You see, the Vanishing Cabinet was broken during our first year—" Harry pointed at Draco and himself. "—because Nearly-Headless Nick convinced Peeves to drop it over Filch's office. Before then, the link between the two cabinets should still be working."

Ginny's eyes brightened and she sat up straighter. "So you're saying that if there's still a Vanishing Cabinet at Hogwarts and one at Borgin and Burkes—"

"—we can get into Hogwarts easier that we thought it was possible," Draco finished, a strange combination of fear and eagerness on his face.

"So we'll have to ask Riddle if there are Vanishing Cabinets in Hogwarts and Borgin and Burkes. He worked at Borgin and Burkes in the original timeline … let's hope he still did after leaving Hogwarts, and I think he should know if there still is … was … a Vanishing Cabinet at Hogwarts," Harry said.

"But what if he doesn't know? I mean, he didn't know about most of the secret passageways at Hogwarts, did he?" Ginny asked.

"Well, the Vanishing Cabinet can't be considered a secret of Hogwarts. The professors never really hid it anyway. So if it's out in the open, Riddle should know about it," Harry deducted.

Ginny nodded in agreement. "That makes sense. So should we tell him now?"

Harry nodded. "The sooner we tell him, the earlier we get … everything done."

Draco rolled his eyes. "As long as you don't start telling Dumbledore 'Show some regret, Albus' and then give him a second chance."

~-0-~

The talk with Riddle went by smoother than the time travelers had thought it would be. The time travelers were correct in guessing that there were Vanishing Cabinets at both Borgin and Burkes and at Hogwarts. However, the one at Hogwarts was constantly moved around, so Riddle didn't know the exact place where it would be at the moment.

Disregarding that bit of unknown information, Riddle had surprisingly agreed that their plan seemed "feasible." Therefore, before they knew it, they had Apparated back to England with the rest of the Death Eaters.

"Nice peacocks, Malfoy," Ginny snorted when they arrived at Malfoy Manor and she took note of the white birds strutting around the garden.

"Jealous, Weaselette?" Draco drawled good-naturedly.

"Yeah, I'm sooooo very jealous and envious of your grandpa, Draco," Ginny answered, rolling her eyes.

Apparently, Abraxas's parents must be out, since they saw no signs of them when they entered the manor. They gathered in the drawing room, with Riddle sitting at the head of the table. Draco sat down next to Abraxas while Harry and Ginny opted to stand at the back of the room. Though they had sworn to follow Riddle, the two Gryffindors felt uncomfortable sitting down with the rest of them, as if they were Death Eaters themselves.

When everyone in the room quieted down, Riddle stood up, and his dark eyes landed on each and every person before he spoke.

"Many of you perhaps guessed the reason why we've returned to England. Indeed, a plan had been devised in regards to how to break into Hogwarts. It is understandable to be frightened about what we are planning to do. We'd lived at Hogwarts for seven years, received our education there, and know quite well how strong the wards there are."

He paused here as the Knights eyed each other, some out of fear and other out of slight confusion.

"That is precisely why we must take over Hogwarts," Riddle continued, his soft voice carrying over to every corner of the room. "Capturing Hogwarts will show those who'd doubted our strength otherwise. Forcing those guarding Hogwarts to surrender will show all of them that we are not just mere rowdy youngsters wanting to make a name for ourselves—we will show them that we are the ones who will be controlling how the future will be shaped. Regardless of how strong the wards of Hogwarts are, it will crumble in the wake of our power. Regardless of who are guarding Hogwarts right now, they will fall beneath our feet—"

It didn't matter how many times Draco heard Riddle spoke; each time, it was as horrifying as it was fascinating. Despite the fact that each and every one of the Knights were frightened of Albus Dumbledore, there was something about the way Riddle spoke and held himself that managed to make all of their hearts soar, to the point that they believed that they were courageous and strong enough to overcome whatever obstacles lied in their way. Subtly, Draco turned his head towards Harry and Ginny, and the two of them also happened to look his way. Judging from their expressions, they found listening to Riddle's speech a surprising experience, too.

"—From now on, we will no longer be called the Knights of Walpurgis. We will be changing our names to 'Death Eaters' because we rise above the concept of 'death.' We will be the ones determining the life and death of others because we, we are the ones who will control death itself—"

Though Riddle never mentioned it, Draco was pretty sure that the name "Death Eater" also reflected the Dark Lord's wish to conquer death, but after spending so much unnecessary time with the Dark Lord, Draco was positive that this wasn't something Riddle would want the others to know.

And apparently, none of the newly-named "Death Eaters" had no idea what was going through their leader's mind, since they all cheered after listening to Riddle's speech to them.

"I have to admit that Riddle does have a way with handling the crowd," Ginny murmured to them as they filed out of the drawing room.

Since Abraxas's parents were not home, there were no ways for them to deactivate the anti-Apparition wards. Therefore, they had to travel outside the manor to a point where they could Apparate to their destination—Knockturn Alley.

"To be honest," Draco replied to Ginny in a whisper after making sure that no one else was listening in onto their conversation, "I sometimes get the feeling that Riddle could be speaking gibberish and he'll still manage to get this kind of reaction out of his followers."

"He's extremely talented at manipulating people; I'll give you that," Harry confirmed in a low voice, keeping his eyes on Riddle who was, thankfully, quite a distance away.

After they've Apparated to Knockturn Alley, Riddle led the way to Borgin and Burkes. With a flick of his wand, the door opened, and before the wards placed there by the owners to prevent thieves could crash down on them, Riddle had already waved his wand and deactivated them.

Once they were standing in front of the Vanishing Cabinet, Riddle spoke, "Antonin."

The wizard in question came up to him, his head bowed demurely. "Yes, my Lord."

"Go through the Vanishing Cabinet. Check and see where the Vanishing Cabinet in Hogwarts is right now," Riddle ordered.

A vicious smirk appeared on Dolohov's face, and he disappeared through the door while the rest of them waited for him to return.

"Do you reckon it'll be somewhere dangerous?" Draco asked in a low voice to Abraxas.

Abraxas shrugged. "That's why the Dark Lord sent Antonin. He's excellent when it comes down to stealth attacks, and he's well … not exactly shy when it comes down to using some of the darker spells."

Harry and Ginny shared a look with one another, and Draco wondered if it had something to do with when they had encountered the Death Eaters at the Ministry of Magic back in fifth year.

Moments later, Dolohov reappeared from the cabinet and reported his findings to Riddle. Apparently, the Vanishing Cabinet was stowed away in one of the deserted classrooms, and there didn't appear to be any professors patrolling the area.

Thankfully, Dumbledore hadn't thought about using Legilimency on Draco when they'd first arrived in the past—or rather, he hadn't used the highest level of Legilimency on them, so he had, at most, only gleaned information from the surfaces of their minds. Additionally, the cabinet hadn't been at the front of Draco's mind at the time. If Dumbledore had known about what happened in sixth year, this plan to infiltrate the school wouldn't have worked.

"Though Antonin had not caught sight of any of the professors, it doesn't mean that they are not on high alert. The less commotion we cause, the more successful our surprise attack will be. Incapacitate any and all professors you can find in the best way suitable," Riddle said.

Harry looked as if he wanted to say something but stopped himself at the last moment.

"He didn't exactly say to kill them," Draco muttered, uncertainty written all over his face.

"I know," Harry answered, swallowing hard.

"And there's more of a chance of defeating Dumbledore if nobody alerts him ahead of time," Ginny reminded them, though she looked slightly lightheaded, too.

"Go in groups if you must, but remember to keep the noise levels to a minimum. Any signs of Dumbledore or Grindelwald, you are to alert me immediately," Riddle instructed.

As the rest of the Death Eaters filed into the Vanishing Cabinet, he turned towards the time travelers.

"Potter."

Harry nodded and turned towards Ginny. Without saying a word, he kissed her on her forehead and then let her go.

As if they had discussed things beforehand, Riddle entered the Vanishing Cabinet and Harry followed right after him.

"So … do we stay back here?" Draco asked Ginny, who was still looking at where Harry had disappeared.

She turned towards him and smirked. "Wouldn't that make you happy?" She shook her head. "We better follow after them. Most of the Death Eaters must be hunting down the professors or looking for Dumbledore and Grindelwald. We best go to the infirmary and gather any and all healing potions, just in case we'll need them."

That made sense, and if one of the professors got hurt, at least they wouldn't have to worry about them getting healed in time to stop the Death Eaters again.

"Weaselette," Draco called out before the redhead stepped into the Vanishing Cabinet.

Ginny glanced at him, her hand on the door of the cabinet.

"Are you sure you can go through it? Letting the professors … possibly die from a curse?" Draco asked, his grey eyes filled with both uncertainty and fear.

Ginny lowered her eyes and clenched her hands together into fists, as if she was struggling internally with herself. Then, she looked at him again.

"We have no choice. Worse comes to worst, I'll Stun them before healing them. I'm not going to let any one of them hurt Harry … or any one of my friends." With that, she gave him a smile.

Friends … she considered him as a friend now. Although they had admitted they were comrades, it was the first time they had attached the term "friends" to one another. And for a split second, Ginny reminded Draco so much of Hermione.

He stared at her before a faint smile appeared on his face, too. "Shouldn't we Disillusion ourselves first then? So if Madam Pomfrey is there, we wouldn't have to hurt her if not necessary?"

~-0-~

The hallways of Hogwarts were quiet. Harry couldn't remember if they were always this quiet. However, an eerie, tingling feeling crept up his back as Riddle and he stalked through the shadows, searching for one particular professor.

The Death Eaters that had come before them were nowhere in sight, and Harry could only imagine that they were sneaking through the school, searching for different targets, too.

The heads of the knight armors followed them as they went through the hallways in silence, and Harry wondered if they would turn their spears on them. Nonetheless, they merely stood there without moving, their unseeing gazes tracking Harry and Riddle's steps.

Out of the blue, Harry wondered if the inhabitants of the portraits would alert Dumbledore, but then he realized that most of them were asleep at this hour of the night—at least, he hoped they would be.

A maniacal cackle sounded through the air, and after exchanging looks with one another, Riddle and Harry both slid around the corner and waited. When nothing happened, they snuck out of dark shadows and continued down the hallway.

Riddle glanced at him from the corner of his eye. "This way."

He led Harry around the corner, and Harry recognized that this was the path towards the Dumbledore's office. Moments later, they were standing in front of the locked door.

"So much for a surprise attack if we have to break down his office door before we get in," Harry muttered, causing a wry smile to appear on Riddle's face.

Suddenly, the expression on Riddle's face changed.

"Did one of your followers alert you?" Harry immediately asked, recognizing the malicious, victorious smirk on his face.

"Seventh floor," Riddle answered.

As they made their way up seven flights of stairs, Harry could not help but feel a sense of déjà vu—the difference being that he was now on the opposite side of the battle.

Along the way, they heard sounds of shouting and dueling, and once they reached the sixth floor, Riddle stopped and slashed his wand in front of him, causing a blond who was attacking one of the Death Eaters to soar through the air.

"Thank you, my Lord," Makedon Crabbe said.

Several more duels were taking place all over the hallway; in fact, there seemed to be some duels taking place in some of the rooms as well, judging from the flashes of light coming from them—it appeared that some of Grindelwald's followers had followed their leader back to Hogwarts as well.

"Where is Dumbledore?" Riddle asked authoritatively as he flicked his wand and sent another blond flying into the nearest wall.

"The Astronomy Tower, my Lord. The last time I've seen him, he was with Grindelwald, dueling with Dolohov, Lestrange, Carrow, Yaxley, and Hartgrove," Crabbe answered.

Without saying another word, Riddle did not so much as glance at the battles going on around him and swept towards the staircase leading to the Astronomy Tower with Harry in tow.

Even before they reached the top of the stairs, Harry could already hear the sounds of dueling. A young man was slumped against the wall, a deep gash running down his leg, while another Death Eater that Harry did not recognize supported him. Dolohov, Yaxley, and Lestrange were all dueling with Dumbledore and Grindelwald, and it was obvious that they were having a hard time holding up against the two older wizards.

A frown appeared on Harry's face as his eyes flickered between the three Death Eaters that were still dueling, Grindelwald, and Dumbledore. Then, he realized that Dumbledore and Grindelwald must be holding back; it was nearly impossible that the five Death Eaters could still be up and moving about if the two of them were set on killing them.

With a slash of his wand, Riddle deflected the spells Grindelwald was sending towards Dolohov. Grindelwald immediately stepped to the side, allowing the spells to hit the wall behind him and blast a hole into it.

Calmly, Riddle waved his hand, signaling Dolohov, Yaxley, and Lestrange to move away. Still keeping their eyes on Dumbledore and Grindelwald, the three Death Eaters moved slowly towards the sidelines until they were standing with whom Harry assumed to be Carrow and Hartgrove.

Both Dumbledore and Grindelwald looked towards Riddle and Harry, and when Dumbledore's eyes landed on Harry, his eyes hardened ever so slightly before flickering down to the wand that was in Harry's hand. A mixture of surprise and alarm flashed through Dumbledore's eyes when he saw the holly wand instead of the Elder Wand, and those piercing blue eyes immediately went over to Riddle.

It was probably the most inappropriate time, but Harry couldn't help but smile upon seeing the confusion in Dumbledore's eyes when he saw Riddle yielding the yew wand instead of the Elder Wand. It was something he hadn't been prepared for; after all, he shouldn't have any idea about the twin cores, and Harry hoped that that would be an advantage working for him and Riddle.

"Riddle," Dumbledore said as a way of greeting.

Riddle tilted his head to one side, a blank façade masking his true emotions. "Dumbledore."

"Such a pleasant evening, and to think that I will peacefully go to bed tonight," Dumbledore said casually.

Riddle's lips curved upwards into a sarcastic smile. "That can still be arranged." From the corner of his eyes, he glanced towards Harry. "Wouldn't you agree that it's very touching, Harry, for our dear old Transfiguration professor to set up a trap like this to lure us to the Astronomy Tower, just so that students wouldn't get caught in between the crossfire?"

Dumbledore and Grindelwald didn't answer. A short moment of pause followed, during which Riddle and Dumbledore stared at one another, before Dumbledore spoke again.

"It is foolish of you to come here today, Tom," he said.

"Quite the contrary,  _ **Albus**_. I believe that I'm in the right place at the right time," Riddle said as he slid his fingers down his yew wand. "And after tonight, I promise that you'll be blessed with an … eternally peaceful slumber."

"Silly claims from a naïve lad, how appropriate," Grindelwald sneered, crossing his arms over his chest and leaning slightly forward. "Did you actually think that you can defeat both of us at the same time?"

"It wouldn't be the second time for you then, would it?" Riddle asked.

Surprisingly, that jovial look that was almost always on Grindelwald's face was gone this time—Harry supposed that the German dark wizard was very irritated about being captured and tortured by someone so much younger than he was. Upon hearing Riddle's words, Grindelwald's face contorted into something similar to that of a demon's: raging, vicious, and bloodthirsty.

It would be the understatement of the year to say that Grindelwald wanted revenge. It was obvious that he wanted so much more, and it went without saying that none of the Death Eaters would be permitted to continue living if Grindelwald killed Riddle today.

"Leave, Tom, and take your followers with you," Dumbledore said.

"Am I supposed to thank you for your kind, obviously caring statement? I fear that it's not having its desired effect … unfortunately," Riddle said.

"You're wasting your breath with the child, Albus," Grindelwald said.

As fast as lightning, Grindelwald pulled out his wand and shot a hex towards Tom. Before the yellow stream of light could hit Tom, it was rocketed off Tom's shield and sped towards Dumbledore—it must be a variant of the Shield Charm, since that charm wasn't known to deflect spells. Less than a second later, three different hexes were sent towards Grindelwald, and Riddle even managed to slip in two curses towards Dumbledore.

Dumbledore immediately flicked his wand, sending a mauve-colored spell towards one of the curses while conjuring what seemed like a Shield Charm in front of him and Grindelwald. He slashed his wand through the air, sending the fallen pieces of stone on the floor towards Riddle. Just when they were about to collide into Riddle's body, they stopped, as if they were blocked by an invisible wall. Then, with a flash of Riddle's wand, the stones became lit with fire before rushing back towards Grindelwald and Dumbledore. With a wave of Grindelwald's wand, the fire-stones melted into a puddle onto the floor.

"Was that actually how you planned on helping me, Potter? By standing there?" Riddle called out in between his casting.

Gritting down on his teeth, Harry rushed forward and started dueling against Dumbledore and Grindelwald alongside Riddle. It was like some type of intricate dance, and Harry was beyond surprised about how synchronized Riddle and he were. Harry had no idea if it were because of the wacky future or was it because he'd had Riddle's soul piece inside of him before, but if anything, he was thankful about it.

A flicker of surprise flashed through both Grindelwald and Dumbledore's faces the first time Harry and Riddle cast the Shield Charm together—Grindelwald and Dumbledore literally stumbled backwards when the force of the spell swept towards them. However, that was when they realized it was a bad idea to let Harry and Riddle duel together, and slowly but surely, the duel between four people started to separate into two individual duels as Dumbledore and Grindelwald started to lead Harry and Riddle farther and farther away from one another.

Though Harry knew that Grindelwald and Dumbledore were doing this on purpose—and he was sure Riddle knew it, too—every time Harry and Riddle tried to maneuver closer to one another, Grindelwald or Dumbledore would aim their spells in such a way that forced them to move even farther away.

Silver sparks were met with red streams of light; yellow streaks bounced off quickly conjured Shield Charms; green lights were evaded and allowed to hit the stone walls behind each dueler—the night sky was illuminated with different colors of the spells, as if fireworks were being set off, as the two different sets of duels continued, with Grindelwald dueling Riddle and Dumbledore dueling Harry. Both sides suffered from injuries, and more wounds were still added to all four participants' bodies, but none of them thought about stopping. In fact, as if pain were a form of stimulant, the speed and strength behind each spell thrown continued to accelerate and increase.

Griselda Marchbanks hadn't been lying when she mentioned that Dumbledore could do magic like none she'd ever seen before. Though it was not the first time Harry had seen him cast, it was completely different when he was at the receiving end of Dumbledore's wand. Even though Harry was attacking as quickly as he could, Dumbledore was casting and blocking the spells at much more ease. Harry hardly had time to check on the duel between Riddle and Grindelwald.

Cold sweat formed on Harry's forehead as he wondered how in the world he could possibly defeat Dumbledore like this. When he dueled with Voldemort, he'd had the advantage of the twin cores, but this was not the case with Dumbledore.

All of a sudden, a loud oomph rent the air, and Dumbledore's eyes flickered over to the side where Grindelwald and Riddle were dueling. Shock and anger flooded Dumbledore's face, and Harry didn't bother to check to see what Dumbledore had seen; he took this as his chance and swished and flicked his wand.

" _Expelliarmus_!"

The force of the spell threw Dumbledore off his feet and sent him flying into the wall behind him.

Slightly dazed that he had managed to hurt Dumbledore and still panting, Harry calmly and cautiously walked up to where Dumbledore had landed. For a moment, disbelief clouded his mind, and only when he was towering over Dumbledore's crumpled body did Harry dare to believe that it was true.

The revived sounds of dueling on the side suggested that Riddle probably hadn't managed to harm Grindelwald enough to stop the duel, but Harry was beyond caring.

Still pointing the holly wand at Dumbledore, Harry couldn't help but stare at the wizard who'd formerly been his mentor, Headmaster—the person whom he had looked up to.

 _Kill him_ , a soft voice said at the back of Harry mind.

Strengthening his hold on his wand, Harry's eyes hardened as he remembered how Hermione had been killed.

It had hurt, much more than Ginny or Draco could've imagined. Hermione had been one of his most important friends, and Dumbledore … Harry had always seen Dumbledore as some kind of role model. Even after learning that there were flaws to Dumbledore's personality, Harry had managed to forget those parts—Dumbledore was a human after all, and humans were prone to err. That was why it almost unbearable when Harry had to see and accept that Albus Dumbledore had killed Hermione, and in some ways, it made an unprecedented anger rise in Harry.

And right now, it would be easy. So, so easy. It was only two words. Two words and he would have avenged his best friend's death.

Yet, as those piercing blue eyes stared back at him, he faltered. There were no reasons for him to, but the incantation of the Killing Curse got stuck in his throat.

"You shouldn't have killed her," Harry said quietly instead.

A solemn look appeared on Dumbledore's face—was it regret? Harry wasn't sure.

"I didn't realize until after her death that I'd made a grave mistake."

"That's not a reason," Harry said, shaking his head as his wandarm trembled from the excess of emotions rushing through his body. "It's unfair. It was your fight against Riddle and Grindelwald. I know you've wanted the Elder Wand, but you still shouldn't have hurt her. She'd never—she would've never betrayed the light side, even if she did loved Riddle. That was between her and Riddle, and she would  _ **never**_ let her personal issues get in the way of determining what was right or wrong. You, out of all people—" He nodded his head towards Grindelwald. "—should've realized that."

"My apologies, Mr. Evans—"

"I don't  _ **need**_  your apologies, Dumbledore. It's not  _ **me**_  that you need to apologize to. The person who you should apologize to is dead. You  _ **killed**_ her," Harry spat out.

Dumbledore remained quiet, and Harry drew in a deep breath.

However, that moment of stalling on Harry's part proved to be detrimental.

Harry hadn't even seen Dumbledore move his wand or mutter a spell. The next thing he knew, he sailed through the air and crashed into the wall behind him, causing a grunt to escape his lips.

A livid cry echoed through the air—

"NOT MY MAN, YOU BITCH!" he heard someone scream as he blinked rapidly, his head spinning.

Shaking his head to clear out the wooziness, Harry then extended his hand, patting anxiously around the floor trying to find his glasses.

"Knew you're going to kick the bucket one day because of your freaky, saint-like tendencies. You haven't learned from the first time around with You-Know-Who, have you, Harry?" Harry heard Draco say as his glasses were pushed into his hand.

As quickly as he could, Harry pushed his glasses back on and his mouth nearly dropped open when he saw the view in front of him.

"Remind me to never piss off Weaselette too much, will you?" Draco drawled as Ginny fought Dumbledore.

"That's for Hermione, you miserable old bat!" Ginny growled as she sent a particularly nasty hex towards Dumbledore.

The wizard in question, on the other hand, seemed too shocked to retaliate and merely ducked to the side or cast Shield Charms to stop the vicious spells Ginny sent his way.

Fear gripped Harry's heart, and he hurried to push himself upright. However, when he finally got up, he felt the world swirling around him, and he fell to the floor again.

"How dare you kill the only person who was there for me!? 'All you need is some chocolate'—I'll show you some chocolate! Always letting other people do the fighting, even when they're not even of age yet, never going anywhere yourself—the only purpose you served was to make all the students under your care miserable throughout their school years," growled Ginny, not stopping in her spell-casting at all. "Letting  _ **Umbridge**_ of all people teach at Hogwarts—did you do anything about it? Nooo, let's not do anything about it because the whole Ministry might try to restrict us even more. How dare you let her make Harry write those lines without consequences? If Hermione hadn't led her to the centaurs, you probably would've allowed that toad-face to continue teaching us, wouldn't you? I can't believe the parents trusted their children in your care—"

Gritting his teeth together, Harry tried to push himself up from the ground again, but it still did not work; the moment he stood upright, his head spun, and he fell to the floor again. Momentarily, Harry looked at Riddle, worried that the latter might hear what Ginny was talking about. Riddle was, thankfully, still preoccupied with Grindelwald. However, Harry knew that that didn't mean he wasn't listening on to what Ginny was saying. Although the time travelers had sworn loyalty to Riddle, and that virtually meant that they were going to help him shape the future, there were some things that Harry didn't think should be revealed to Riddle—like the prophecy.

Nonetheless, it appeared that Ginny wasn't the slightest bit fazed by the fact that Riddle was dueling someone nearly right next to her, even though the duel going on between Riddle and Grindelwald was much more vicious. She kept on sending different curses and hexes towards Dumbledore, as if she wanted to vent out all the frustration towards their old Headmaster through her casting. Dumbledore seemed every bit as confused as he was surprised. That bit of shock seemed to slowly subside, and every now and then, he would send a spell back towards Ginny, which frightened Harry—what if Ginny got hurt? However, for some reason, the spells that Dumbledore cast didn't seem particularly harmful, almost as if he didn't want to hurt Ginny.

"—How many times have you put Harry and Hermione in danger? THEY WERE CHILDREN! Not your pawns, you old git. Suuure, just turn your Time-Turner a couple of times back and save the day, children. In no ways will it be dangerous. That's why I'm not going to do it myself. Good thing You-Know-Who burned that stupid Sorting Hat or else I'll rip it to shreds for putting you and Pettigrew into Gryffindor, YOU COWARD!"

Dumbledore didn't answer, and Harry momentarily wondered if it were because he felt guilty about killing Hermione. Occasionally, Dumbledore would send spells—much more powerful spells than the one he cast towards Ginny—towards Riddle. However, that hardly made Harry relax. What if Dumbledore suddenly decided to use more harmful spells towards Ginny? So Harry tried to get up again, and a growl of frustration left his mouth when he slumped towards the wall.

"You KNEW who opened the goddamned Chamber of Secrets, but did you do anything about it? Did you tell or warn anyone? Nooo, let's get half of the school petrified. And now that I think about it, you've nearly killed her twice. No, let me allow a bunch of twelve-year-olds solve it all by themself—WE COULD'VE DIED DOWN THERE, YOU OLD FOOL! AND YOU DARE TO ATTEMPT TO KILL HIM AGAIN! THEY TRUSTED YOU! ALL THROUGH THEIR SIX YEARS AT HOGWARTS AND ONE YEAR OF MISERABLE CAMPING TRIPS, EVEN THOUGH THEY NEARLY GOT KILLED EVERY SINGLE TIME, THEY TRUSTED YOU AND YOUR SNEAKY, MANIPULATIVE HIDE!" Ginny screamed as she threw hex after hex at Dumbledore, who merely deflected them.

And then, green light flooded the Astronomy Tower, and a permanent expression of shock imprinted itself onto Dumbledore's face, surprised with Ginny's choice of spell. Then, two loud, simultaneous thuds rang through the air.

A moment of silence followed, only broken by Ginny's panting. She stared at the body belonging to the person she had been attacking just seconds before, dumbfounded, and a look of loss on her face.

And then, the Death Eaters who had been standing on the sidelines cheered. One of them immediately cast the Dark Mark, which hovered over Hogwarts and illuminated the night sky, marking Lord Voldemort and his followers' victory.

Albus Dumbledore and Gellert Grindelwald had been defeated.

~-0-~

With a sigh, Draco exited the Great Hall and headed down towards the lake.

The Dark Lord had granted the Death Eaters permission to throw a celebration in the Great Hall with food from the kitchen and liquor from one of the professors' cabinet—Draco hadn't been particularly concentrating on what they were saying.

It was strange, to say the least. Instead of feeling the satisfaction he'd thought he would feel from watching Dumbledore die, he felt … empty. It wasn't that Draco didn't think that Dumbledore should die, quite the contrary. That old coot had it coming when he killed Hermione out of all people.

Nonetheless … everything still felt incomplete, and as Draco sat down by the glistening lake under the moonlight, he realized that it was because it wouldn't bring Hermione back. It didn't matter that Dumbledore had gotten what he deserved. It didn't matter that Grindelwald had been killed by the Dark Lord and that meant that the time travelers wouldn't have people hounding after them now.

Hermione wasn't there with them and that somehow placed a downer on the celebrations.

Though Ginny had speculated about the possibility of the Coin of Charon, Riddle hadn't said  _ **anything**_  about it at all. What if he was just giddier than usual because of some other reason? The Dark Lord was known to have mental problems and to be mentally unstable, so that might've been the reason as to why he was so calm and collected about Hermione's death. With that said, perhaps this was a perfect time for them to leave. But then again, it was known that once you've signed up to join the Dark Lord, you couldn't exactly back out again. Revision: Once you've signed up to join the Dark Lord, it was a lifetime contract. Draco remembered quite well what happened to Igor Karkaroff and had no desire to follow down  _ **that**_ path. So … suggesting to Harry and Ginny to leave probably wouldn't be a good idea.

"Draco."

He turned around and found Harry and Ginny standing behind him.

"Not joining in on the celebrations?" Harry asked as he sat down next to him.

Draco raised an eyebrow. "Don't see you drinking a lifetime's worth inside with them."

Harry grinned and didn't answer, but Draco saw the emptiness he felt mirrored in the green eyes behind those glasses. Momentarily, Draco glanced at Ginny, knowing how shocked and shaken she was for killing Dumbledore. However, she seemed to be coping, though that haunted look still hadn't left her eyes.

Just then, they heard their names being called out, and when they turned around, they found Abraxas running up to them.

"What is it?" Ginny asked when he was close enough to talk with them.

"I—I was looking all—over for you. The—the Dark Lord wants to—see the three of you," Abraxas panted.

~-0-~

They weren't very surprised to learn from Abraxas that Riddle was waiting for them inside the Head's Office. Riddle hadn't expressed a single bit of joy when Dumbledore was killed, but the time travelers were certain that he must be overwhelmed with glee that his long-time nemesis was now gone—even though Dumbledore had died by Ginny's hands instead.

"Potter," Riddle greeted from the chair behind the desk of the Head's Office.

"Riddle," Harry replied with a nod of his own. After a short pause, he continued, "You asked to see us."

"I simply wanted to check the well-being of every one of my followers. Once I've heard from Antonin that the three of you were absent from the celebrations, I just wanted to make sure that everything was okay," Riddle said, a wry smile in place on his face.

The three of them remained silent. Ginny stood to the side, eying Riddle with caution. Draco, on the other hand, shifted his weight from feet to feet.

The silence hung uncomfortably in the air, and Riddle tilted his head to one side.

"Or am I incorrect in assuming that you are pleased with the outcome? Surely my decision to keep the captured professors in the dungeons at Malfoy Manor wouldn't be too appalling to you. After all, you did personally instruct Abraxas to provide them with comfortable settings and everyday necessities until you get the chance to speak with them," Riddle said offhandedly.

Heaving a deep sigh, Harry finally spoke, "We want to know the situation with Hermione."

Riddle raised an eyebrow. "What about Hermione?"

Harry didn't immediately speak; however, when he did, it was with difficulty. "Is she … truly gone?"

A corner of Riddle's lips curved upwards. "Are you suggesting, Potter, that there's some kind of magic that could bring a person back to life?"

"I don't know," Harry answered. "But your reactions aren't adding up to what I thought they would be after seeing Hermione die right in front of you."

In an instant, a blank front covered any and all expressions on Riddle's face, and he leaned forward. "Perhaps I just didn't care as much about Hermione as you thought I did."

Instead of getting angry, Harry stared back at Riddle expressionlessly. "I'm not here to discuss with you about your emotional or psychological state. I just to know, is she truly gone?"

Riddle eyed him for a short moment before speaking again. "To what length are you willing to travel in order to save her, Potter?"

His words renewed the sparks of hope in Harry's heart. However, it also ignited a flame of caution.

"So that means you do have a way of bringing her back," Harry concluded.

A smile tugged on the corner of Riddle's lips again and he leaned back into the chair he was sitting in again. "I never said that. I simply inquired your determination in bringing Hermione back to life. That's all."

Harry stared at him—he didn't feel it was necessary to answer Riddle.

A soft chuckle left Riddle's lips, and with a flick of his wand, an object appeared out of thin air and landed on the table in front of him. Uncontrollably, all of the time travelers' eyes landed on the intricately designed box, though they were too far away from the desk to see it in detail. However, it was obvious that it was something old.

"I've gotten this from Dietfried Kaufmann's house," Riddle spoke up after they stared at the box for a while.

"He couldn't have bought it," Harry blurted out, remembering quite well the decorations, or lack thereof, in Dietfried's house.

"Indeed," Riddle agreed, amused. "He didn't buy it. He'd gotten it on an expedition with Dumbledore."

Harry kept silent, waiting for Riddle to continue, since he had no idea what this had to do with bringing Hermione back to life.

"Apparently, Dietfried never figured out the secret inside this box," Riddle continued, waving a hand towards the box. "He'd thought that the box was important because it held a ring that enforced the power of nonverbal, wandless magic. He never found the hidden compartment underneath the ring."

"And you've found it," Harry said.

Riddle gazed at him for a short moment, and with a swish of his wand, something gold appeared and landed on the table next to the box. Upon looking at it a bit closely, it was a scarab, around the shape of a Galleon.

"This is the key that opens the compartment," Riddle said.

Harry looked at both objects on the table for a few seconds and asked, "What does all of this have to do with bringing Hermione back to life?"

"There's an item inside the secret compartment," Riddle said, his dark eyes fathomless. "And legend has it that this item could bring a person back to life."

That spark of hope in Harry's heart roared to a bonfire. "Dumbledore once said that there's no magic that can bring a person back to life."

"As I've said, 'legend has it.' I never commented on whether or not the item will work," Riddle answered.

"I've never heard of any legends talking about a secret compartment inside a box bringing a person back to life," Harry said.

Riddle raised an eyebrow. "Were you listening, Potter? I said the item inside it. The box itself will not bring a person back to life, but the Coin of Charon was rumored to have that ability.

The Coin of Charon … it really was the Coin of Charon in that secret compartment.

Ginny grasped onto his hand, her own hand shaking from the emotions that were coursing through her. Harry had no idea if Riddle were lying or not. There were millions of reason why he would lie to them, but Harry didn't want to think about those possibilities right now. He didn't care that it was possible that Riddle had somehow managed to overcome their wards while they were sleeping in Slytherin's cabin and had overheard their conversation about the Coin of Charon. Presented in front of them was a chance to bring Hermione back to life, and Harry didn't want to let that slip away.

"So why didn't you open it?" Harry asked, trying hard not to let his emotions show.

"There are certain requirements that must be met before this box could be opened," Riddle replied.

Taking a piece of parchment from the table, Riddle tapped it with his wand. With a wave of his wand, the parchment flew towards Harry, who grabbed it.

_Made out of neither stone nor metal, the box of compartments can only be opened by the metal touched by the lips of the sun and by one who has the capacity to give mercy to even those who had wronged him._

Without warning, Draco snorted. "Was Nefertiti a friend of yours, Harry?"

Harry didn't answer; he merely stared at the parchment in his hands before gazing back at the objects on the table.

"I never would've guessed that you would fit the qualifications, until I saw you failing to kill Dumbledore when you've gotten the chance to," Riddle said, twirling his wand around effortlessly.

"How do we know if it isn't some kind of trap?" Ginny spoke up, suspicion etched on every one of her features.

"Weasley, I do not have a reason to harm Potter. Besides, I've made the Unbreakable Vow with the three of you already. I'm not about to risk my life just to kill him," Riddle said.

Swallowing hard, Harry walked up to the table, never taking his eyes off the box and the scarab.

"Can I …?" he asked, gesturing towards the box and the scarab and glancing at Riddle.

Riddle gave him a nod.

Harry took the box and placed it in the palm of one hand. With the other, he opened the box carefully and found a scarab-shaped indent in the middle of the wooden panel inside. He picked up the scarab and, after inhaling deeply, clicked it into place in the box.

~-0-~

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **A/N** : Many thanks to my betas, Nerys and Marauder's Wolf! Huge, huge thanks to those of you who read and those who left kudos!


	60. Chapter 60

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Many thanks to my betas, Marauder's Wolf and Nerys! Huge, huge thanks to those of you who read, gave kudos, and commented!

**Chapter 60**

It was pitch-black.

Unlike most children, she'd never been particularly afraid of the dark. For some strange reason, she had been attracted to it; it had always brought about a sense of calm to her.

Well, except during the days when she'd gone on those damned camping trips with Harry. But that was beside the point.

Though she found herself immersed in darkness, she hadn't been the least bit alarmed, merely curious. However, as time slipped by, she had come to accept it. Moving on hadn't been as particularly hard for her as she'd thought it would be.

Of course, at the beginning, she was worried, and she would be lying if she said she hadn't wondered how life would've continued if she were still alive. But she wasn't a Gryffindor for nothing, and she faced her death with courage and a mind set for new adventures.

Nonetheless, adventures were apparently not on the menu for her. Instead, it felt more like going to bed after a very long trip—she was at peace.

Therefore, when a blinding light encompassed her and forced her to open her eyes, she was shocked. It was more or less like being forcefully wakened before she could finish her nap. Uncontrollably, she felt her body float through the air, as if she were being Summoned, though she could not make out anything about the medium she was in, nor could she tell heads from tails.

Then, she was standing in a room, yet she didn't even have time to figure out where she was. She couldn't help but stare at the five people standing in the room in front of her. She didn't know who the person donned in black was, but it was rather telling by the way he was holding a scythe and how his skin was a deathly pale-white—it must be Death himself. The other four however …

Harry … Ginny … Draco …

 _ **Tom**_.

Her first reaction was to reach out to them, but upon trying to do so, she discovered that she couldn't move her limbs at all. Reflexively, she looked downwards, trying to find out what was hindering her, and she received her third shock—she didn't  _ **have**_  any limbs; in fact, she didn't have a body at all. It was like she was some kind of mist.

Was this what it was like to be dead? Was this what it was like to be a spirit? She had no idea if it was just her or if this happened to everyone else. Or was this a result of whatever had caused her to wake up from her eternal peace?

She glanced towards the group of five—well, four, given that Draco was standing a good distance away from Tom and Death. She wanted to call out to them, but no matter what she did, no sounds came out. Somehow, she knew that the answer had something to do with the five beings in front of her.

Suddenly, Death lifted his hand and snapped his fingers, and Harry, Draco, Ginny, and Tom were all looking at her. She stared back at them before she realized they could see her now; whatever Death had done seemed to have given her back her corporeal form. So, she tried to open her mouth and call out to them but to no avail—she still couldn't move or speak.

"This is the girl you've requested," Hermione heard Death say.

"Yes," Harry replied, keeping his eyes on Hermione.

With horror, Hermione realized what this was about—what Harry, Draco, Tom, and Ginny were about to do. Again, she tried to open her mouth, but it wouldn't budge.

_Please let me guess wrong. Please don't let this be what I think it is._

However, it didn't take a genius to figure out what those four morons were doing, especially when she saw her dead body not more than ten feet away from her.

"The coin?" Death asked, extending his hand.

If Hermione could've moved, she would've banged her head against the nearest pillar—better yet, she would've strangle each and every one of the four idiots who were trying to negotiate with Death.

"Her soul is still separated from her body," Harry pointed out.

 _Yes, exactly, which means I'm_ **dead** _, so just send me back to where I was before_ , Hermione thought, wanting very much to throttle her best friend.

As the Master of Death, she would've thought that he would've known better than this. He was supposed to let her move on, not try ridiculous methods to bring her back to life.

However, before she could think any further, Death snapped his fingers again, and all went black.

~-0-~

With a gasp, she opened her eyes.

"Hermione!" different voices immediately called out upon hearing her gasp, and faces appeared in front of her in less than a second.

"You're back. You're really, really back," Ginny whispered, tears welling up in her brown eyes.

"You are Hermione, aren't you? Death didn't … well, trick us with someone else's soul, did he?" Draco asked with uncertainty.

She pushed herself up to sitting position. "You  _ **idiots**_."

"Okay, it's her," Draco confirmed, moving farther away from the bed she was sitting in.

"What— _ **What**_  in the world were you lot thinking?" Hermione seethed, glaring at each person in turn.

However, one of the culprits was suspiciously missing.

"Where is he?" she demanded stonily.

"Er … who?" asked Harry tentatively.

"Tom Marvolo Riddle," she answered.

"He's … er … he's outside defending the castle," Ginny replied.

It was then that Hermione had a chance to look at her surroundings. From the lighting, she had known that this room was different from the one where the four wizarding history's greatest idiots had been negotiating with Death. However, upon taking a closer look, her mouth dropped slightly open.

"We're in the Gryffindor girls' dormitory," she stated.

"Um … yes," Harry answered, glancing at her with uncertainty.

"That means we're at Hogwarts," she said.

She bit down on the inside of her cheek to prevent herself from asking why the boys could be in the girls' dormitory; there were other more important questions she needed answers to.

"… yes, we are," Harry replied.

"Why are we at Hogwarts?" Hermione asked quietly. "And why is Tom outside defending the castle? Don't tell me that Death, just for his entertainment, sent me to some random dimension where Tom sided with Dumbledore."

Harry seemed to struggle a bit with himself before he said, "No, Riddle hadn't sided with Dumbledore."

"Then how did we—" she stopped in midsentence, an unbelievable answer to her unfinished question floating to the front of her mind. "Oh no … no, no, no. Tell me that I'm just being overly creative and my mind is just making up stories."

Harry and Ginny shared an uneasy look with one another, and it certainly did not make Hermione feel any better.

Hermione closed her eyes and mentally counted to ten.

"Tell me you didn't do something extremely, extremely stupid," she pleaded as calmly as she could.

"It's a long story," Ginny said slowly.

"Well, apparently, now that I'm back to life, I have all the time in the world," Hermione said with a humorless smile.

Harry and Ginny looked at one another again, and perhaps they mutually came to the conclusion that no matter what they said, Hermione was going to make them tell her, so they proceeded to tell her what happened after her death.

However, after listening to less than two minutes of the story, Hermione wished that she hadn't asked. Her ire continued to rise with each word that came out of their mouths, and she had to fight hard against the urge to scream or kick something.

"—and then we took … er … we took the Unbreakable Vow—"

"You  _ **what**_?" Hermione screeched. "You took the Unbreakable Vow with Tom Marvolo Riddle!?  _ **You took an Unbreakable Vow with Lord Voldemort**_? Are you nuts!? What were you—Were you even thinking!?"

"Hermione—"

"The Unbreakable Vow with Lord Voldemort—I could already see at least twenty thousand things wrong with it—He's a Slytherin, for Merlin's sake! He's the  _ **Heir**_  of Slytherin. I would've thought that you, out of all people, should've realized that negotiating with him is worse than negotiating with Death! And you still thought it was a good idea to make an Unbreakable Vow with Tom Marvolo Riddle!? Do I even dare to ask what the conditions of the Vow are?"

She sucked a deep breath in, and she wished that she couldn't—at least she would still be dead and she didn't have to face  _ **this**_.

"Well, er, you told us to protect the Elder Wand—"

"And you thought the best way to protect it was to just  _ **give it to him**_!?" Hermione shrieked.

She bit back the urge to ask Harry if he'd gotten one too many Killing Curses aimed at him, which caused him to lose his brains in the process. That might hurt him a bit too much emotionally. However, she strongly considered throttling him at this point.

Harry waved his wand, and Hermione recognized the wand movements as the ones for the  _Muffliato_.

"I was the one he'd gotten the wand from. He still doesn't know who the true master of the wand is," Harry told her.

Hermione closed her eyes and inhaled deeply again before saying, "Harry James Potter, don't you remember that  _ **you**_  were the master of the wand in the original timeline? That wand would still work better for him than it should—"

"Well, that's the point. If it made no difference for him, he might realize sooner or later that I wasn't the true master of the wand," Harry said.

"Him? Figure it out?" Hermione snorted. "He still wouldn't believe that you were the true master of the wand at the final battle after he killed Snape. Did you honestly think that Lord My-Ego-Is-So-Huge-It-Wouldn't-Fit-Through-The-Front-Door-Of-Hogwarts would realize it sooner or later? He'll probably come to the conclusion that the whole legend about the Elder Wand was just that—a legend."

"But he's gotten information from Ginny the other day in the forest that the only way to defeat my holly wand is by the Elder Wand. If the Elder Wand doesn't work slightly better for him, I was afraid that he'll figure out who the true master is," Harry countered.

Hermione remained quiet for a short while, still not completely convinced that the moronic master of all evil would actually figure it out. However, Harry did raise a good argument, and she knew that he was doing his best to protect Ginny, so she couldn't dispute that.

"And … well, Dumbledore and Grindelwald would've definitely tried to catch us. I couldn't just … I couldn't allow the wand to fall into their hands, not after … not after what Dumbledore did to you," Harry said.

She closed her eyes and nodded, not completely agreeing with his decision. However, now that things were already set in stone, there wasn't anything she could really do about it.

Harry and Ginny remained tense, watching her carefully, as if worried that she might either break down the next moment or that she might attack them. She had no idea which option she preferred, but she knew that neither of them would make a difference.

"So …" She cut herself short and took a deep breath again. She mentally wondered if she was ready for the answers to her next request was, but she knew that she had to get it over and done with sooner or later. "So tell me what the conditions of the Unbreakable Vow are."

"Well, we've gotten him to promise to not hurt us and to give us time to speak with his opponents, sway them before he hurts or kills them," Harry said slowly.

"You should know that I'm not worried about what conditions you've given him. I want to know what conditions he'd made you vow to," Hermione said, finding Harry's evasion to tell her what Tom's conditions were suspicious.

"Well … as you've might've guessed, he wanted to Elder Wand," Harry said.

"Yes," she answered, her impatience showing through her voice. "That couldn't have been his only condition."

"Yes …" said Harry.

"What else?" she pushed.

He mumbled something under his breath that Hermione couldn't hear quite properly.

"Come again?"

"He … he wanted unwavering loyalty and for us to not allow harm to be done to him when it is in our power to stop it," Harry said quickly.

Hermione stared at him. For a short moment, she couldn't even respond.

_Dear Merlin, please tell me that this is a nightmare that I've made up while I was dead._

Harry glanced at her with uncertainty and when she didn't say anything, he started to say, "Er … well—"

"Unwavering loyalty and not allowing harm to be done to him … unwavering loyalty and not allowing harm to be done to him …" Hermione repeated quickly under her breath. "Are. You. Insane. Harry. James. Potter."

"Hermione—"

"He's Lord Voldemort! Don't you remember who he is!? Have you not learned  _ **anything**_  from the original timeline!? And you went and just—just swore your 'unwavering loyalty' to him—do you have  _ **any**_  bloody idea what that entails at all!?" Hermione shrieked.

"We didn't have another choice, Hermione—"

"Don't give me that kind of stupid excuse; you always have another choice, Harry James Potter! Making an Unbreakable Vow with Lord Voldemort and swearing your loyalty to him—what are you going to do if he tells you to kill your own parents and will consider it disloyalty if you don't do it? What if he tells you to kill Sirius? Or Lupin? Or Hagrid? Don't tell me you didn't have another choice—"

"But he also swore to give us a chance to sway them!" Harry protested. "And we've thought about it. If one of the three of us don't speak to the future prisoners, he can't kill them without breaking the vow."

Hermione rolled her eyes to the ceiling. "Do you think that Tom's  _ **that**_  stupid!? Oh, this is—this is—ARGH! On top of bringing me back to life, you've gone and done something this idiotic—"

"Er, she doesn't look too happy to be back to life," Draco muttered to Ginny.

"Happy? Why would I be happy? Why couldn't the lot of you just left the Coin to Immortality-Obsessed Riddle instead of yanking me back here? Have you ever tried getting woken up from a long needed sleep? Well, this is what it feels like, except it's a hundred—no, a thousand times worse!" Hermione snapped her head towards Harry. "Haven't you learned  _ **anything**_  at all from the story of the three Hallows?"

"But … you're not a mist anymore! You're really back," Harry said, a look of guilt now appearing on his face.

"Oh, that makes me feel soooo much better. I would've thought that you, out of all people, should've known better, the one who would tell them it's a bad idea to bring someone back to life—"

"You didn't expect us to just—just let you die, did you?" Harry stuttered.

"YES, I DID!" Hermione screamed. "You, out of all people, should've known this. Dumbledore already  _ **told**_  you that there's no magic to bring a person back to life—"

"But he obviously lied, didn't he?" Harry countered. "The Coin of Charon really did work."

 

"That's not the point! This is a complete violation to my rights—"

"Your rights?' Draco asked, staring at her in confusion.

"Yes, my rights," she snapped. "And you! Why haven't you stopped them?"

" _ **Me**_?" asked Draco, pointing at himself. "Did you really think that they would've listened to me?"

"It's obvious that you haven't even tried to stop them from doing something this stupid," Hermione said, seething. "Have the lot of you even asked if I wanted to be brought back to life? Have you bothered to get my permission? Have you—"

"Hermione, you were dead. We couldn't have possibly gotten permission from you," Harry pointed out.

"Exactly! And you should've let it be!" Hermione yelled.

Harry shook his head. "I—I can't do that."

"What do you mean you can't do that? You haven't thought about bringing Sirius or your parents back to life," Hermione snapped.

The words left her mouth before it fully registered in her mind how cruel they were, and regret settled into her conscious as a hurt expression appeared on Harry's face.

"Hermione … I … I didn't have a choice with them. But with you … I had a choice. I couldn't—I can't—you're not even supposed to—this isn't the right time period. You're supposed to be born almost thirty years later. You can't just … die now."

Hermione didn't immediately answer. Her temper waned rapidly as the look on Harry's face imprinted itself into her mind, and she mentally berated herself.

_Stupid, stupid, stupid._

She hadn't  _ **meant**_  to hurt Harry like this. She loved him, and even after he'd done these stupid things, she still loved him. But the words just tumbled out of her mouth before she could stop herself.

"We're not in the original timeline already, Harry, and I've never said anything about it being impossible to die in the wrong time period," Hermione said, her voice less harsh now as guilt continued to grate on her nerves.

Ginny placed a hand on her shoulder. "We're … we're sorry, Hermione. I … I have to admit that we were being selfish when we brought you back, but like Harry said, we couldn't have gotten permission from you when you were … well, dead."

Hermione remained silent for a while, her mind in chaos. After a while, she sighed and said in a tired voice, "I know … I know. It's just … it's frustrating."

"Sorry," Ginny repeated.

Hermione shook her head, realizing that what they had done was precisely what anyone would've done. They were given a chance to bring a friend back to life, so she couldn't have possibly expected them to understand how miserable she was right now. If she were in their shoes, she probably would've done the same thing.

At the end, Hermione realized that moaning and griping about her "resurrection" would not help with matters. So, with a deep sigh, she looked at them again.

"It's during the school year. Wouldn't the students wonder why a strange, supposedly dead witch is sleeping on one of the beds?" she asked, deciding that this change in topic should help her take her mind off the misery she was going through.

"No, the seventh year girls were told to stay in the sixth year girls' dormitory for the time being," Ginny replied, relief apparent on her face.

"Well, that would definitely endear me to them," Hermione said dryly. "Wouldn't the parents want to bring their children home then? Now that the school no longer has its Headmaster and is apparently under the control of some random, pompous Dark Lord?"

A corner of Ginny's lips twitched, and thoroughly amused, she answered, "I suppose they will soon, now that the Ministry is notified about this. It's bound to be on the headlines of the  _Daily Prophet_  tomorrow morning."

"The Ministry?" Hermione asked, surprised. "Since when did they actually care when there's a battle at Hogwarts?"

"Well … um … they … apparently, they got a bit concerned … or maybe it's because the recent Minister for Magic is more responsible than Cornelius Fudge, but … the Aurors got sent in," answered Harry.

"Well, that seems reasonable, since Tom and you lot seemed to have taken over Hogwarts while I was dead, especially if Dippet escaped to alert the Ministry while you lot were wreaking havoc," Hermione deducted. "But I find it strange that Dumbledore would actually—" She stopped in her words again as mentioning her former Headmaster and Transfiguration professor brought about another thought. "He … Tom killed Dumbledore, didn't he?"

The three time travelers didn't immediately answer.

"Not exactly …" Draco said, casting a cautious look towards Ginny, who'd turn pale.

Hermione's mouth dropped open when her mind connected the dots, and she couldn't help but stare at the redhead.

Ginny nibbled on her lower lip before blinking rapidly a couple of times. Then, she gritted her teeth together and said, "I couldn't let him kill someone else I care about. He had—he was in the position to harm Harry then, and—and I just—the only thing going through my mind at that time was all the vicious things he had done to the lot of you. He was irresponsible as an adult, as a professor, and as a Headmaster, letting children doing all those dangerous things … and … and … oh, Hermione … I couldn't get the image of him killing you out of my mind and when I thought about Harry dying … my temper just flared … and the … it just happened before I could stop myself."

Harry placed his arm around Ginny's shoulder and pulled her into his embrace. "I'm sorry, Ginny."

Ginny didn't answer and merely shook her head as she stared ahead, a faraway, haunted gaze in her eyes. Though she'd tried her best to hide it, it wasn't hard to see that the event had impacted Ginny hard.

Hermione closed her mouth and let the information sink into her mind before she shook her head. She wanted to comfort Ginny, but when she opened her mouth, she didn't know what to say.

An uncomfortable silence fell over the group, but no one seemed to know how to break it.

Sighing deeply, Hermione could not help but wished that things would turn out alright. After all, what was done was done, and there was nothing she could do now to turn time back again.

~-0-~

According to Harry, Ginny, and Draco, Death had mentioned something about lots of rest after she came back from the dead. So, after chatting for a bit, the three of them forced her back into bed and left the room, supposedly to help in the battle that was going on outside.

However, once the door shut behind them, Hermione immediately sat up on her bed, her eyes narrowing into mere slits. She wasn't just annoyed because they'd forced her to come back to life. Hermione had asked for details about the events that had happened after her death. Naturally, they had been more than willing to tell her what they had encountered, but when they landed on certain specifics, Tom's lack of presence became more and more prominent.

It must have been obvious to Harry, Ginny, and Draco as well, since Ginny spent a good time during the latter half of their chat reassuring Hermione that Tom was devastated when she died.

Ha! As if she, Hermione Jean Granger, would be daft enough to believe that Lord Voldemort would be devastated because of her death. Nonetheless … no matter what she told herself, it still stung a bit that he wasn't there when she woke up.

Just a bit.

Oh, who was she trying to kid? Though she had seen him while she was in the state between life and death, it just wasn't the same that he wasn't there. She wasn't a needy person by nature, and she'd always believed that regardless of how much she loved her future companion, a certain amount of space was mandatory. However, she'd been gone for nearly a month. Surely her resurrection meant  _ **something**_  to him. Didn't he want to see her and make sure that she was truly alive?

_Perhaps he knew that you would've thrown a tantrum and wanted to stay out of the way while you ranted at Harry, Ginny, and Draco._

Okay, that was probably a logical explanation, but still, it didn't brush away the annoyance and doubt that kept mounting in her heart. What if he didn't really care about her as much as she'd thought he did? What if he was only using her to get Harry, Ginny, and Draco to become his followers? Or else why would Ginny feel the need to tell her Tom's reaction towards her death?

She scrubbed her face with her hand, her irritation slowly being redirected towards herself instead. She knew what she was getting into since day one. She'd know what kind of man he was and she'd still fallen in love with him. Did she really expect him to rush to her side and become some kind of fluffy bunny just because they'd kissed and had sex? That would've been completely uncharacteristic of him. Not to mention utterly revolting.

 _But it still would've been nice to see him when I first opened my eyes_ , a small voice said in the back of her mind.

Though on that note … she wondered what, exactly, were his plans now. After he'd become the master of the Elder Wand, she was pretty sure that her resurrection was sort of like a monkey wrench in his plans. He'd already gotten Harry and the others to give him that stupid Vow, but she was not included in that. Most likely, he would be worried about her stealing the wand from him.

Or rather, he would be worried that she would  _ **try**_  to steal the wand from him. She was pretty sure that he was arrogant enough to believe that he would never lose that wand to her. Little did he know, though, that she had no urge to steal that wand from him. After all, she was pretty sure that Ginny had no plans to ever duel Tom, and she was pretty sure that Tom wouldn't just challenge Ginny to a duel for no reason. If Hermione were still the master of the wand, there were too many occasions where she would duel Tom, and that would make it too easy for the ownership of the wand to be transferred.

Therefore, Tom would always believe that he was the master of the Elder Wand. However, that also meant that she would have to  _ **pretend**_  to steal it from him because it would be completely abnormal for her to sit around and smile while he wielded that wand. With his intelligence, it wouldn't take too long for him to notice that there was something wrong if she remained passive.

In addition to that, he would probably try to trick her into getting into some situation to swear  _ **her**_  unwavering loyalty to him.

_Ew, ew, ew!_

She'd rather be fed to Blast-Ended Skrewts than do that.

Could that also be the reason why he hadn't showed when she woke up? Because he was thinking of some kind of nefarious plan to trick her into binding her loyalty to him?

"Oh, for Merlin's sake."

She ought to have strangled Harry, Ginny, and Draco while they were here. If it weren't for them, she wouldn't have been stuck in this kind of situation right now.

Nonetheless, she'd be damned if she just sat here and wait for his Lordship to make his appearance. It wasn't in her nature. Besides, she needed to gauge his reactions before she knew what moves she should make. Therefore, she pushed herself to the edge of the bed and stood up. She raised her eyebrows, more out of relief and surprise, when she realized that she wasn't as lacking in energy as she had been led to believe, and all her limbs seemed to be working rather well. So far. She crossed her fingers hoping that this would hold up; she needed to speak with Tom.

She then patted her hands over her clothes until she found her wand, securely held in one of her pockets. A small smile appeared on her face, glad that her friends had left it with her. After all, she might need it if she ran into one of Tom's Death Eaters.

A frown appeared on her face as a thought came to her mind, and with a gentle flick of her wrist, she pointed her wand at one of the windows. The window immediately opened, allowing a light, spring breeze into the room. Relief washed over her; it would've been a horrible surprise if she'd come back to life only to find out that she no longer had her magical abilities.

With that fear settled, she stalked towards the door, pulled it open, and walked down the stairs. The Gryffindor common room was empty, and momentarily, Hermione wondered if classes were still going on amidst the battles that were supposedly going on. She doubted Tom would allow the students to fight against the Ministry—not out of the "goodness" of his heart but because she didn't believe that he would trust them to not double-cross them.

Pushing her curiosity aside, she walked towards the portrait hole and climbed through it.

"Granger."

She looked up and found herself staring into the face of Antonin Dolohov.

"Dolohov," she replied, keeping her face neutral though she felt her muscles tense up, as if her body was getting ready to run or fight.

"You should be in bed," he said, crossing his arms in front of his chest and his expression bordering on belittling.

"That's none of your business," she answered, raising her eyebrows at him.

"On the contrary, the Dark Lord instructed me to keep watch, in case certain … suspicious-looking individuals decide to dawdle here and disrupt your rest," Dolohov said.

His lips curved into a mocking smirk as the condescension he felt towards her started to leak out through his words and demeanor.

"Well, good luck on your watch then," she said with false authenticity and turned on her heels to walk away.

Before she got to take more than two steps, he was in front of her again.

"Sorry, Granger, I can't let you leave."

"Oh really?" she asked slowly, her fingers curling around her wand. "Then I suppose—"

In a flash, her wand was out and she flung a curse towards Dolohov. She had no qualms about hexing the Death Eater; after all, she'd never forgotten what had happened back at the Department of Mysteries in fifth year.

However, Dolohov was not an inexperienced dueler. His wand was out and his shield was up right as the spell left her wand. She half expected him to attack her, so therefore, she was surprised when he stood there with a scowl, as if he had no idea what to do. Well, she wasn't going to let that chance slip by without doing something about it.

"Grang—"

His words were halted as she continued to throw different curses at him. Several times, he tried to speak but was forced to stop when she came very close to harming him. Finally, one coral-colored spell broke through his defenses and hit him in the gut.

"Oops," she said without an ounce of sincerity as he flew through the air and crashed into the floor some ten feet away.

Vengeance was hers.

Pocketing her wand, she walked ahead, quite pleased with herself, and could barely contain the glee surging through her body.

"The Dark Lord instructed that you're not supposed to leave the Gryffindor tower," Dolohov said between grunts of pain as she passed his side.

"Oh really?" she asked again nonchalantly. "Then I guess I'm supposed to docilely sit inside like a loyal Death Eater." She glanced at him from the corner of her eyes.

"It would be wise to do so," replied Dolohov.

And detrimental to his health if she didn't. Well, she sure as hell knew what she was going to do.

Crouching down, she smiled at him. "There's just one little problem with that, Antonin Dolohov. I'm neither mindlessly loyal to Riddle nor a Death Eater. Have a good day."

With that said, she stood up and walked away, leaving a staring Dolohov behind her.

~-0-~

She had thought that finding Tom wouldn't be easy, especially in a place as large as Hogwarts. So when the answer finally came to her, she wanted to bang her head against the nearest wall for not thinking of it earlier. Even from one hallway away, she could hear Tom's smooth voice speaking inside the Great Hall.

She wondered if he was talking to his Death Eaters. She quickly scratched that idea; if he were talking to his Death Eaters, he would've, most likely, chosen a place with more privacy. Perhaps he was talking to the professors who had surrendered then.

"—that nothing has changed. I recognize the importance of education and do not plan on taking that away. Classes will continue as usual, and changes of professors should be posted by tonight," she heard as she got closer and closer to the closed doors.

 _Oh, gee, no wonder he only attacks Harry at the end of year: So that he wouldn't interrupt children getting their education. So mighty considerate of him_ , she mockingly thought to herself.

Putting her hands on the wooden doors, she pushed them open.

"In regards to—"

Tom abruptly stopped in his words when his eyes landed on her.

Chairs shifted as people turned around to see what had caused the Dark Lord to stop talking, and suddenly, Hermione found herself gazing at hundreds of staring faces.

 _Oh great_ , she winced to herself.

Discomfort quickly turned into embarrassment, triggering a red flush to taint her cheeks. Most, if not all, of the students at Hogwarts were there and so were the few professors who, Hermione guessed, had not joined the fight against the Death Eaters.

Slowly, the buzz of soft murmurs erupted across the Great Hall. Hermione shifted her weight from foot to foot, very uncomfortable with the situation she was in but not in any position to just turn around and leave right now. From the corner of her eyes, she saw a distinctive head of white-blond hair shaking from laughter. She didn't need to have an eagle's vision to guess that that must be Draco. Indeed, Harry, Ginny, and he were standing a few feet away from the staffs' table, presumably instructed to monitor the actions of the students while Tom was speaking. Well, before she barged in, that was.

Seconds ticked by, and finally, the moment of shock passed. Without saying a word, Tom swirled out of the chair he was sitting in, his expression murderous. Almost instinctively, the logical side of her wanted to turn around and run, recognizing that look; it was classified as "highly toxic" in her books. However, the rebellious side was much stronger today and firmly nailed both of her feet to the floor.

So, with a defiant look on her face, she watched him walk from the staffs' table all the way to where she was standing. By now, Draco had finally stopped laughing and was watching her with worry in his eyes. Both Harry and Ginny recovered from their shock when Tom was halfway down the aisle and quickly followed after him.

When Tom was close enough, Hermione opened her mouth.

"Riddle, we—"

Her words, however, were cut off when he reached her. Without warning, he picked her up, one arm firmly around her waist and the other under her knees, and continued to walk as if her weight had no effect on him.

"Wai—what are you doing?" she hissed, mortification making her flush red again. "Let me down!"

Falling on top of her head was not at the top of her list of priorities right now, so she resisted the urge to struggle out of his hold.

Tom clenched his jaw together, his anger rather obvious. However, he offered no answer as he continued walking quickly through the hallways of Hogwarts, heading straight to the Gryffindor tower.

"I'm talking to you. I doubt you've become deaf during the few weeks that I've been dead," she said, "and let me down already."

Nonetheless, he acted as if he hadn't heard her, though the expression on his face became even scarier, if possible. Her hand shot to her pocket, attempting to pull out her wand, only to find that it had disappeared.

Damn. That stupid Dark Lord stole her wand again.

"Tom Marvolo Riddle, give me back my wand!" she yelled.

"Riddle, Death never told us if magic can be used on her without repercussions—" said Ginny as Harry and she hurried along next to Tom.

"I told you Dolohov would be worthless in trying to keep her in the tower—" said Harry.

"What? Harry, tell him to give me back my wand and let me down," Hermione cut in, glaring at her friend.

"—and physical strain might cause harm to her, too—" Ginny continued to say.

"Will one of you tell him to let me down already? Since he's pretending that I don't exist? I don't even get why he let the three of you bring me back to life if he's so intent on pretending that I'm invisible," Hermione said loudly.

"Riddle—"

"You lot volunteered to chat with her and make her stay in bed. Had you been successful, Dolohov would've only been needed if someone decides to disrupt her rest. Seeing that you've failed, it's rather obvious that I've overestimated your ability to do things correctly," Tom said coldly.

"Hello, I'm right here, you know. Or have Death's spell suddenly rendered me invisible and incoherent to you lot?" asked Hermione sarcastically.

"I'd like to see you convince her to stay in bed," Harry said angrily.

"Hey!" Hermione protested, which cause Harry's annoyed look to melt into a sheepish one.

"And I obviously will not need your help, seeing how you utterly failed at it the first time around. Go back to the Great Hall, both of you," Tom ordered.

A look of defiant reluctance appeared on Harry's face, but soon, he sighed deeply and turned around to leave with Ginny.

"No—Harry!" Hermione screamed.

However, the only thing he did, much to Hermione's dismay, was turn around and shoot her an apologetic look before continuing back to the Great Hall with Ginny.

Enraged, she reverted her gaze back to Tom. "Just because you've trained them to become your monkeys, it doesn't apply to me. Don't think that I'm going to blindlessly follow your beck and call. Give me back my wand and let me down, Tom Marvolo Riddle, or—or I'll bite you!"

"I never doubted you would, and Merlin forbid the day when you finally listen to people for a change," Tom muttered.

Concussion or not, Hermione no longer cared, so she started to struggle out of his hold. An annoyed hiss left his mouth, and she had no idea how he'd done it, but the next second, she found herself slung over his shoulder, reminding her much of the day when he had taken her down to the Chamber of Secrets.

"Let me down, you stupid caveman!" she yelled as she kicked her legs and pummeled his back.

If it hurt him, he didn't say anything about it. He remained silent, and along the way, Dolohov ran up to him.

"My Lord—"

"I'll deal with you later," Tom said coldly. "Find Abraxas and prepare for tonight."

"Yes, my Lord," said Dolohov.

Despite being angry, Hermione couldn't help but grin at the prospect of Dolohov being punished by Tom later on. Revenge was certainly best served cold. As Tom continued striding, however, she was reminded that her moment of victory was tainted by the fact that Dolohov had seen her being slung over Tom's shoulder. Well, she supposed it could be seen as kind of embarrassing for Tom, given that she had been physically beating him up along the way.

When they finally reached the girls' dormitory, Tom placed her on the bed, surprisingly gently. She had half expected him to simply throw her on the bed, judging from the fury that was radiating off him.

Towering over her, he said, "Until you have my permission, you are to stay in here. I will not have you sauntering around Hogwarts—"

"Who died and made you the one in control of my life?" Hermione interrupted.

His eyes hardened, and a single hand shot out, grabbing a hold of her chin.

"Granger," he seethed.

"Riddle," she chanted, almost tauntingly.

"I will not have you throwing your childish tantrums because you were brought back to life against your will."

"Like I've said, who died and made you the one in control of my life?" she snapped.

"You belong to me, Granger. Your body and soul belongs to me as well. I am the only one who can dictate what goes on in your life, and you'll do well to remember that," said Tom.

Getting on her feet, she tilted her head up and glared at him. "You wish. I am my own person, and what I do with my body is none of your business. Just because you had a hand in bringing me back to life, it doesn't mean that I'm required to listen to you. I'm not your Death Eater, and I didn't make that stupid Vow to you, so don't you dare act as if you're my master, Tom Marvolo Riddle."

For the millionth time, she was thankful that she wasn't included in that stupid Vow. Besides the Elder Wand, she wasn't about to let Tom know that she wasn't too enthusiastic about him controlling the wizarding world. Anyone with a half a brain would know that his strive for power wouldn't end there. Well, if anything, she could sabotage Tom's plans from the inside if they included anything along the lines of genocide and enslavement. And she certainly didn't plan to let him know what she was thinking about in that aspect.

However, it was obvious that he wasn't paying full attention to what she was saying.

"Merlin be damned if I will allow Death to gain an upper hand on me again. Don't think for one second that you're off the hook for running off and sacrificing yourself for someone like Potter, and I'll deal with you later after you've gotten enough rest. For the time being, just get this into your head: I will not have you dying on me again, Granger," he said through gritted teeth. "If you die again, I swear that I will kill every single person precious to you."

"Don't you dare threaten me with the people I care about," she hissed. "And I'm soooo touched by your display of care there. I can see that you care so much that you didn't even bother to be there when I woke up!"

He stared at her, momentarily silent. Then, a corner of his lips tugged upwards into a faint smile. Unexpectedly, that caused a furious blush to blossom on her cheeks.

"What are you—"

"Is that what this was all about?" he asked.

The smugness that had suddenly entered his expression made Hermione so uncomfortable that she wanted to find the nearest closet and hide inside. However, the stubbornly proud side of her refused to let her do so. She doubted Tom would allow her to move away anyway.

"What are you going on about?"

"Is that why you rampaged through Hogwarts looking for me? Because you're upset that I wasn't there when you woke up?"

"I didn't rampage through Hogwarts," she argued. "All I did was curse Dolohov. And he was asking for it anyway."

"I don't doubt that," mused Tom. "But that still doesn't explain your less than rational behavior. Hurrying through the hallways of Hogwarts even though you just came back to life—"

"I just came back to life, it doesn't mean that I'm crippled," she said loudly.

"—barging into the Great Hall and causing a scene—"

"I didn't even know you had the whole school there," she pointed out, though she felt her cheeks burning up.

"—screaming in the middle of the hallway—"

"You lugged me through the hallways over your shoulders. That's more than enough to embarrass me for life."

"—all this time, you were just distraught because you thought I didn't want you anymore," Tom continued as if he hadn't heard a thing she'd said.

"I wasn't distraught!" she disputed. "I was just—I wanted to talk to you about the things that had happened while I was gone."

He patted her on the head condescendingly. "I'm sure, dearest, and we'll all immediately jump on the next time machine and change what happened in the last couple of weeks because you didn't like how things turned out."

"Don't be ridiculous," she said. "And why should I care if you wanted to be with me any longer anyway?"

"Because you've used up that Coin of Charon, which possibly could be useful to me in the future?" he answered, his voice a tad bit too sweet.

"Oh please, as if you dare to imagine yourself die," she sneered.

Of course, Harry also mentioned to her that he was the only one who could open the box, which was why Tom never had the chance to get his hands on the Coin of Charon in the first place. She could imagine the frustration Tom had felt when he knew he couldn't open the box and had to hand it over to Harry. Nonetheless, she couldn't let the chance to mock his obsession with immortality and fear of death slip by like that.

"And that wasn't even an answer to my question," she added.

"Granger, let's skip the silly song of denial you have going on there, since I really don't care for that. Everyone knows that you're desperately in love with me," said Tom with a sense of mockery in his voice that was obviously directed to the notion of love.

"I— _ **I**_  am not desperately in love with you," sputtered Hermione. "I'm cross because of that totally barbaric, immoral, idiotic Vow that you've made with Harry."

Nonetheless, a part of her was thankful that he hadn't thought of the other reason why she'd gone through the whole school looking for him. Maybe he was still suspicious, but she was happy to let him continue believing that she'd only done it because she was upset about him not showing.

"Granger, are you really placing the blame on me? Especially when Potter was the one who'd approached me?"

"As if you hadn't gotten everything you could've out of that Vow," she retorted.

"Slytherin, dearest," he said. "Besides, it wasn't as if they hadn't gotten anything out of the Vow. They'd gotten protection from Grindelwald and Dumbledore after they've joined me, and Miss Weasley had gotten the opportunity to get vengeance on Dumbledore—"

"As if you would've dared to attack both Grindelwald and Dumbledore on your own," Hermione snorted derisively.

"I admit that I wasn't planning on attacking Dumbledore immediately after he'd … saved Grindelwald from my hands, but that didn't mean that I will necessarily lose to him in a proper duel—"

"I'm sure Grindelwald would kindly sit by the sidelines while you're dueling Dumbledore," she interrupted him in a sweet voice.

"You're assuming that they would rekindle their relationship," said Tom, "which isn't necessarily true—"

"Oh, quit deluding yourself, Riddle. With the Elder Wand in your hands, I'd bet my hat that they would join forces to defeat you," Hermione said.

"That," he said, "is if they still believe that the Elder Wand is in my hands. How long do you think it'll take before they realize that I do not possess the Elder Wand? Dumbledore isn't nearly that unintelligent."

What he was saying was so wrong on so many levels, but before she could say something in retort, he'd start speaking again.

"So, as you can see, your friends had everything to gain and nothing to lose by taking the Vow. In retrospect, I believe that I was the one who'd suffered a loss in the whole deal. After all, once I've taken over the world, they will know nothing but prosperity and power."

"Oh please. You've gotten the Elder Wand and both Grindelwald and Dumbledore are dead. There's practically no one left to stop you now. What else do you want?" she asked through gritted teeth.

"It is nothing compared to what they will get in the future. No matter how you look at it, dear, your friends got the better end of the deal," Tom said. "Before you started accusing me of taking advantage of them, perhaps you should've looked at things from both sides—"

She uncontrollably snorted again and mockingly said, "Oh, poor, little Tom Riddle, who got cheated of his benefits. What should he do now?"

He raised his eyebrows at her words, amused, before his hand shot out and grabbed a hold of her waist. With a light tug, she was in his arms. Placing both hands on his chest, she pushed herself slightly away from him.

"I'm not finished talking with you yet," she said.

"Mm …" he said offhandedly.

His eyes traveled over her face meticulously, taking in every detail, almost as if he were making sure that everything was alright with her. When he was finally satisfied, he placed another hand on the back of her neck, pulling her closer. However, she resisted, a stubborn look on her face, though that didn't stop her cheeks from turning red again.

"I said, I'm not finished talking with you yet."

"If you're so worried, then there's only one thing you can do," he said softly, his dark eyes glinting as he stared into her brown ones.

She remained silent, waiting for him to continue. Slowly, he lowered his head until his lips was mere millimeters away from hers.

"Become immortal and make sure I won't do anything to harm the ones you love," he whispered before capturing her lips with his.

She responded in kind to his kiss, though it didn't escape her notice that he was insinuating that he would make her find a way to become immortal. Well, Horcruxes were out of the question and so was time travel. Nonetheless, she was pretty sure that he would find a way to achieve that in the future. The only things she would have to worry about now were if whatever immortality-achieving method he found included clauses about remaining forever loyal to him and if it would include immoral deeds of some kind.

But she could worry about that later.

When they finally broke apart, she was left slightly panting, and his eyes were darker than usual as he gazed at her.

"Don't think that I've forgiven you with just a kiss," she said, her eyelids feeling heavier than they ought to be.

"I still need to attend to some things. You, on the other hand, need your rest," he said, his face serious. He paused for a second before continuing, "We'll continue tonight."

For a short moment, she wondered if he was talking about their conversation or their kiss. A sly smile appeared on his face as he twirled a strand of her hair around his finger.

"As much as I would like to comply with your wish, you aren't in any condition for that right now," he said.

She wanted to refute his words, but the drowsiness seemed to be spreading to the rest of her body now. With an agile move, he picked her up and placed her in the bed again. He flicked his wrist, and with a soft click, the window she'd opened before closed.

Casting one last look at her, he walked out of room. She watched until the door closed, and she was too tired to try, but she was pretty sure that the door would be warded to prevent her from leaving now. However, she didn't feel the urge to leave anymore, having received answers to more than one question already. He'd said that they would continue to talk tonight anyway.

And somehow, she knew he hadn't lied to her.

~-0-~


	61. Chapter 61

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Many thanks to my betas, Marauder's Wolf and Nerys! Huge, huge thanks to those of you who read, gave kudos, and commented!

**Chapter 62**

She was walking down a hallway in Hogwarts.

Muffled music came from a door to her left, and a frown found its place on her forehead as her feet came to a stop. Almost mechanically, she turned around until she was facing the door, and reaching out with her left hand, she opened it.

What she saw made her eyebrows fly to her hairline, and she stood at the doorway as if she'd somehow gotten glued to the ground.

"Aha! It's Hermione!" Harry exclaimed.

Or rather, a Harry look-alike. She only  _ **knew**_  he was Harry because of those vivid green eyes behind dark-rimmed spectacles.

She blinked rapidly a couple of times, trying to make sense out of the Harry with Dark Marks tattooed all over his body; a full head of sleek, long blond hair; and a snake-headed cane in his hand.

"Have you seen my husband and son?" Harry asked with a wide, maniacal grin on his face.

"I'm sorry?" Hermione asked, confused. She'd thought that he was going to be married to Ginny.

"My husband and son!" Harry repeated before reaching to his side and grabbing a person into his arms. "Abraxas and I decided to get married, and he just gave birth to Lucius this month."

With his free hand, he grabbed a scowling Draco—or at least, a scowling Draco look-alike—and pulled him into Hermione's line of vision.

"What—how— _ **who**_?" Hermione sputtered as she stared at "Lucius" who looked nothing like a newborn baby.

"And I'm going to give him my wand when I die, so that he can rid the world of filthy Mudbloods!" Harry chanted in a sing-song voice as the door slammed closed in Hermione's face.

Her mouth dropped open before she snapped it shut and started jiggling the doorknob, trying to open the door again.

"Hey, you! Why aren't you in class?" she suddenly heard.

Turning around, she found Ginny walking towards her swiftly.

"Oh, Hermione, it's you."

"Ginny—I mean—what happened? What's Harry—"

"Ugh, Hermione, I thought we'd agreed not to bring up Harry in front of me," Ginny said with a grimace.

"We did?"

"Yes, after we found out he was cheating on me behind my back with that pompous, good-for-nothing, idiotic Abraxas Malfoy. At least Draco showed more signs of an intelligent being than that prat!"

"Um … right …" Hermione said, her eyes wide.

"Thankfully, I have Antonin with me," Ginny said. Her eyes became dreamy and her face wistful as she pulled a person out from behind her, who turned out to be none other than Antonin Dolohov.

"Er?"

"I'm so glad to have met him," Ginny said before she and Dolohov started snogging one another like there was no tomorrow.

As discreetly as she could, Hermione moved backwards away from them. When their actions became more heated, she turned around and ran, trying to put as much distance as she could between herself and them.

"This has to be a dream," she muttered to herself as she turned around the corner.

Before she could pinch herself to test the theory, someone grabbed her by the waist. Her world spun as he pulled her into his embrace. Placing one hand on his chest, her other hand was about to pull out her wand when he spoke.

"There you are. I was looking for you," the familiar high, cold voice of Lord Voldemort said.

She looked up and found him looking at her with his blood red eyes, amusement glinting in them.

"Have you delivered them?" he asked.

"What?"

His slits-for-nostrils flared in annoyance, and he said, "Our wedding invitations." Before she could answer, he sighed, ran his hands over her body, and somehow produced a couple of green envelopes with the Dark Mark stamped on them. "There they are."

"What?"

"Our wedding invitations," he replied, a condescending tone entering his voice. "Really, Granger, did you fall on your head while you were walking up the staircase? You were the one who'd kept pushing me to get married to you."

"I what?" she asked, flustered.

He glanced at the wedding invitations in his hand as if he hadn't heard her question. "We'll just deliver this some other day then."

Without warning, he stowed the envelopes away before swirling her around, positioning her against the wall. His lips found hers, taking her breath away with his kiss as his hands caressed the side of her body.

Moments later, he broke off the kiss with a triumphant smile. Alarm bells went off in her mind when she saw his face, and she stared at him in caution.

What was he up to now?

"Finally got you to make the Ultimate Kissing Vow, didn't I?" he asked tauntingly.

"The  _ **what**_?"

"The Ultimate Kissing Vow, in which you will have to do whatever I tell you or else you will suffer a pain far worse than the ones caused by the Cruciatus Curse before dying a horrible death," he said, his red eyes gleaming viciously.

"What? There are no curses like that!" she protested, pretty sure that she'd never read anything like that before.

If it were true, nobody would've ever dared to kiss anyone.

"Yesss, that's what you get for not practicing the Dark Arts, my dear," he smirked. "And now, you will have to be absolutely loyal to me.  _ **Forever**_."

~-0-~

She jolted upright on the bed, her heart still pounding painfully against her chest. Her eyes darted around the room, almost afraid that she would find the snake-like version of Voldemort standing there, ready to taunt her again.

_It was only a nightmare. It was only a nightmare._

She willed her heartbeat to slow down to its normal rate, trying very hard not to think about all the ridiculous events that had happened after she'd died and before she'd come back to life. It was almost as if those four idiots couldn't wait to get in trouble, the way they'd jumped on the opportunity once they were sure she wasn't around to stop them from being stupid.

She glanced around the room, attempting to use that as a way to push those depressing thoughts away from her mind for the time being. It was apparently still nighttime, though it should be nearing dawn, judging from the segments of the sky she could see from the windows and the muffled chirps of birds outside.

Turning her head to the side, her heart skipped a beat at the sight of Tom sleeping beside her. Perhaps she was still wary from the nightmare she'd just had.

_Imagine if there really w_ _ere_ _a curse like that ..._

That thought came unbidden to her mind as she stared at his sleeping form. She shook her head, annoyed that a silly nightmare like that would affect her so much. However, the what-ifs buried uncertainty in her mind, and she silently vowed to browse the library soon to make sure.

If there were curses like that ... well, she might have to take a trip back in time to deal with the originator. Not because that would mean she could never kiss Tom anymore. No siree. It was because that kind of curses was completely unfair to the general public.

She sent a glare towards Tom, who appeared to be having a nightmare-free rest—well, of course.  _ **He**_  wasn't the one who had to put up with these worries.

_Bloody Dark Lords and the troubles that come with them._

Not to say that Harry, Ginny, and Draco weren't to be blamed for the predicament she was in, but really, if Tom wasn't nearly as sneaky and manipulative, she wouldn't have to work this hard.

Then again, she probably wouldn't be as attracted to him if that were the case.

Shaking that thought from her head, she placed her attention back on him. She wondered if he were really asleep. Squinting her eyes, she glanced around the room, and her eyes lit up when she found her wand placed on the bedside table. Apparently, he'd deemed it safe enough to give it back to her.

Leaning backwards slowly and cautiously, she grabbed her wand before sitting upright again. She turned her head towards Tom and waved her wand, placing a Deep-Sleep Charm on him. The lack of resistance or some kind of ward on him slightly worried her, but heaving a deep sigh, she decided to continue anyway.

It wasn't as if she were really after the Elder Wand, but just imagining the look on Tom's face when he found out that she'd stolen it made a triumphant smile appear on her face. So, without further ado, she stowed away her wand, pushed herself into kneeling position, and started searching his body.

She'd thought that it wouldn't have been too hard to find it because, really, how many places could a person hide a wand? However, after checking his pockets and sleeves, she could hardly hold back a frustrated growl.

Could it be in the back pockets of his pants? She maneuvered carefully, afraid that she would wake him up, before she remembered that she had placed the Deep-Sleep Charm over him already. Hovering over his body, she slipped her hand under his waist and wiggled her fingers downwards until she reached where his back pockets should be. She felt around, and her frown deepened when she couldn't find anything. He couldn't have placed it on the bedside table, could he? He was too suspicious of a person to do something like that. However, perhaps she should check anyway?

The moment she looked upwards, she froze, still crouching above Tom's body and one hand under his bum.

Two dark eyes too bright to have just woken up from sleeping stared back at her.

As if burned, she stumbled to the side of the bed, keeping as far away as she could from him without falling off the bed. Her cheeks turned a furious shade of red as she looked at anywhere in the room but him.

Slowly yet surprisingly elegantly, he turned to his side, propping his head up with one hand, and gazed at her, amusement never leaving his features.

"I hope you've still found my body to your liking," he said, not bothering to keep the hilarity out of his voice.

If possible, her face turned even hotter, though she somehow managed not to squirm under his scrutiny.

"I wasn't touching you," she blurted out.

He didn't answer, and Hermione couldn't tell what he was thinking about from his expression. For a split second, she wondered if it were better if she'd gone along with what he'd said and pretended that she was touching him, but that idea quickly got tossed. She would never hear the end of it if she'd admitted to  _ **that**_.

"I thought you were sleeping," she said tentatively.

"So you'd thought that that was a perfect moment to touch me."

"I wasn't touching you," she repeated in protest.

Maybe she was, but not in  _ **that**_  sense of the word.

"Oh really?" he asked, raising an eyebrow as he shifted his body so that he was sitting upwards and leaning with his back against the headboard.

He extended his hand in an almost lazy manner, and Hermione couldn't help but stare at the Elder Wand that was now hanging loosely between his fingers. With a flick of his wrist, a book flew through the air and landed in his free hand.

"Let's see then," he said as he started to flip through the pages of the book. "Since you don't like the word 'touch,' perhaps there are other words that you would like better. Caress, clutch, feel, grab, fondle, stroke—oh, I think we have a winner here. How about the word 'grope'?"

"Very mature, Riddle," she said, grabbing the thesaurus out of his hand and closing it with a snap.

"As mature as casting a Deep-Sleep Charm on someone so that you can have your way with them?" he asked.

She crossed her arms over her chest. "Shouldn't you be in a state of deep sleep if that were the case?"

"Luckily for me, I am always alert, regardless of what situation I'm in," he replied, twirling the Elder Wand idly between his fingers. "Perhaps you'd forgotten, but might I remind you that the Deep-Sleep Charm only works when the person it is targeted towards had no idea what was coming."

"Riiiight, so you're saying that you're constantly worried that someone would place that kind of spell on you," she said, rolling her eyes.

"One can never be too comfortable, regardless of the environment they're in. There's always an off chance that one of the many desperate witches surrounding me might try to use some kind of spell to force themselves on me."

The blush that had finally receded came back in full force, though this time more out of annoyance than embarrassment.

With a fluid movement, he sat up and brushed the bottom of her chin with his fingertips.

"You know, you could've just asked and I would've been more than happy to accommodate your needs," he continued to say.

She knew he was goading her, trying to get a reaction out of her, but the temptation of wiping that aggravating smirk off his face was too great.

"Don't flatter yourself too much, Riddle. You're not exactly the last wizard alive," she said condescendingly. "Did you actually think that—what was that word you used again? Oh yes—Did you actually think that  _ **groping**_  you was at the top of my to-do list after I'd just come back from the dead? Really, your ego is so huge that I'm surprised you can actually fit through the do—"

She abruptly stopped in her rant and froze the moment he pointed the Elder Wand at her. With the nightmare still fresh in her mind, she immediately tried to get away. However, a light blue spell hit her before she could get off the bed. Momentarily, she almost forgot to breathe. However, the next second, her eyes flashed downwards and she patted over her body, almost as if she expected there to be signs of the spell.

"What did you do to me?" she screeched and her eyes snapped upwards to him when her search came up with nothing.

He raised a single eyebrow at her, and there was combination of amusement and confusion on his face, as if he'd seen something out of the ordinary. Realization soon dawned on his face, and he then gave her a sickeningly sweet smile.

"Why, of course I just  _ **had**_  to bind you to me now. You're going to somehow try to get the Elder Wand from me, so I had to make sure that that was no longer an option for you," he replied.

Instead of scaring her, however, his words jump-started her mind back into action. She mentally berated herself for allowing a silly nightmare to affect her so much as she allowed condescension to appear on her features.

"Spells don't work that way," she said bossily, crossing her arms over her chest. "If they did work that way, Dumbledore would've used them on you a thousand years ago. Then he wouldn't have to worry about someone running off to kill Grindelwald."

She didn't exactly know if what she said was true, but now that she was awake, she had the advantage of logic and deduction—something she'd lacked in that stupid dream.

"Perhaps he'd just wanted to maintain that perfect, wonderful, Muggle-loving charade of his," Tom said, a sarcastic glint in his eyes.

She rolled her eyes. "Even if he didn't use them, a certain Lord Voldemort would've used them, wouldn't he? Then, he wouldn't have had to chase after four time-travelers, attempting to blackmail information out of them at every corner of Hogwarts."

He placed a hand over his heart. "You wound me so, Hermione. Did you really think that I would've done that to the four of you? To take away your option of free will?"

"Yes," she deadpanned.

He sniggered, annoying Hermione to no ends.

"Might I remind you that  _ **you**_  were the one who'd tricked them into that Unbreakable Vow," she said.

He leaned closer to her before saying, "Now, now, dear, 'trick' is too harsh of a word, as I've already told you two days ago—"

She nearly missed his next words upon hearing "two days ago." It appeared that she had slept longer than that she had thought. However, she forced herself to concentrate on the debate at hand instead of fussing over something that she had no control over.

"—your friends are getting much more from me. That aside, I can't comprehend why you resist the idea of swearing your loyalty to me. As you can already see, your friends are still happily breathing, talking, eating—"

"With fear that their next move might displease their puppet master," she retorted. "If it's not such a big deal, then why don't you swear your loyalty to me and show me how happy you are about it?"

"Granger, if you were on your way to becoming the next ruler of the world, I would gladly give you my loyalty—"

"Before you turn around and stab me in the back," she pointed out. "As if you would ever dare to imagine yourself as someone's lackey. Oh, look at my master, so incompetent in her role, I must take over before she does something irreversibly stupid without caring that she might actually do the world some good."

"Like dying in the place of someone as insignificant as Potter?" he asked, a faint sneer appearing on his face.

Her mouth dropped open for a second before she snapped it shut. She resisted the urge to whack his head with the thesaurus in her hand and opted to poke her finger at his chest instead.

She said in a quiet, warning tone, "Harry is  _ **not**_  insignificant."

"Considering that he was the reason why you'd gone about brandishing your wand, pretending it was this ridiculous wand, I think I'm quite entitled to categorizing him as 'insignificant'," replied Tom, the disgust on his face not receding in the least as he stared at the Elder Wand in his hand.

For a second, she wondered if he was becoming suspicious about whom the wand was truly loyal to. However, she knew that she couldn't find out what he was thinking without raising suspicions in him, so she decidedly pretended to not notice anything off about the situation.

"Oh, I can see how awfully  _ **insignificant**_  he is, considering you were the one who'd made him take a vow to be loyal to you," she scoffed as she placed the thesaurus on the bedside table.

"Granger, the fact that he'd made a vow to me is completely irrelevant to the fact that he is insignificant. Perhaps he was useful as a member to the Light side, but other than hindering the progress of eliminating my enemies, I see no other actual usage in him," he said, looking back at her. "Besides, nobody can guarantee that he wouldn't cause me more problems in the future. So my definition of him stands correct."

"Let's thoroughly ignore how he'd helped you bring down Dumbledore and Grindelwald, shan't we?" asked Hermione loudly. "The battle with two of the most powerful wizards in the world isn't such an important part of your plan for world domination after all."

"I would be thoroughly surprised if Potter and his little friends hadn't told you that Ginny Weasley was the one who'd ultimately placed Dumbledore in his grave," he said, raising an eyebrow at her.

"I'm sure Ginny would've been so incredibly glad to help you if it weren't for Harry," she snapped. "You know well enough the benefits that you're getting out of this arrangement, so don't you dare call Harry 'insignificant'."

"Might I remind you that there wouldn't have been this bloody arrangement if you hadn't gone and gotten yourself killed," Tom said, his eyes narrowing in displeasure. "Don't think for one second that I'd forgotten or forgiven you for the stupid deeds that you'd done. The fact that you've just come back to the land of the living had not driven those memories out of my mind, and I advise you to remember firmly that I always collect my debts and expect to be repaid in full."

She condescendingly asked, "What are you going to do? Go and get yourself killed?"

As if he would ever get himself killed voluntarily.

"Don't be ridiculous, Granger. I accept all forms of payment," he said, crossing his arms over his chest.

"Who'd said anything about paying you?" she asked, crossing her arms over her chest, too.

"I never said the payment had to be given willingly," he replied cockily.

She snorted derisively, choosing not to answer.

"Is that a challenge, Granger?" Tom asked, narrowing his eyes ever so slightly.

"Did you hear me say anything?" she asked instead of answering, adopting a saccharine tone of voice.

A light laugh left his lips, and his features were so relaxed that Hermione became suspicious. This might've been a sign that he'd let go of the subject, if the person in question wasn't  _ **him**_  and if the person facing him wasn't Hermione. However, this was Lord Voldemort, and Hermione knew that this wasn't the last she was going to hear about this.

"Besides, it is  _ **my**_  life, so I'm the one who gets to decide what to do with it," she stubbornly added.

She knew her words were close to a challenge, especially when this was the second time she'd said it within a matter of two days. However, she also knew that if she didn't put her foot down on this subject, he would try to manipulate her and attempt to brainwash her until she believed that it was normal for him to control her life. She'd be damned if she allowed him to do that.

He had the audacity to roll his eyes at her, bringing her ire back to full force.

"Tom Marvolo Riddle, you are not controlling my life," she said.

He patted her on the head and condescendingly said, "Let's keep thinking that way if it makes you happy."

Without waiting for her to answer, he got out of bed and went into the bathroom. She was about to follow him inside when he turned around and placed his hands on the doorframe, effectively blocking off the entrance.

"Granger, although I know you enjoy watching me undress, there are certain things that I would prefer doing in private," he said, looking at her.

It took a short moment for her to decipher his underlying message, but the moment she did, the door had already slammed shut in her face. Her mouth dropped open before she snapped it shut. Rolling her hand up into a fist, she started knocking on the door rapidly.

"Riddle! We're not finished talking yet! Riddle!" she shouted as she rapped on the door.

However, she would've gotten the same results if she had been screaming at a rock. If he'd heard her, Tom didn't so much as respond to her yells, and so she stopped. She wouldn't put it past him to put a Silencing Charm on the door after he'd closed it.

And she still hadn't figured out what spell he'd placed on her. Regardless of the fact that she now knew that it wouldn't bind her to him in any way, any spell that came from him didn't sound like good news to her.

Damn him for sidetracking her.

A soft knock on the door leading to the common room alerted her, and she turned her head towards it, just in time to see Ginny opening the door and popping her head in. A smile appeared on Ginny's face when her eyes land on Hermione.

"I thought I heard your voice," she said as she pushed the door a bit wider to reveal Harry and Draco behind her.

"Thought? Wrong choice of word there, Weaselette. I reckon the whole castle would've heard her if she'd shouted a bit louder," Draco muttered.

"How are you feeling?" Harry asked.

"Horrible," she muttered, but when she saw the alarm on her three fellow companions' faces, she took a few steps towards them and quickly added, "I meant—I didn't mean—" She took a deep breath. "My strength is completely back, and I'm fine."

"But you said—"

"I was just frustrated because of Riddle. I didn't mean that I was going to keel over and die," she explained. Gesturing her body, she said, "I mean, look at me. Does it look like I'm weak or about to die anytime soon?"

"Don't—" Ginny said, her eyes wide with fear as if she were afraid that Hermione was going to die once she mentioned the word.

"Ginny, I'm fine—"

"You better be," Draco said with a grimace. "Merlin knows that I would be driven insane if I had to put up with Potter and Weaselette becoming water fountains again."

"Oh, shut it, ferret boy. As if you didn't bawled like a baby when she—when she were gone," Harry said.

That, of course, led to arguments from both sides. Although Hermione was somewhat touched by their concern, it was also becoming a bit tiresome. If they spent the rest of her life mollycoddling her or if she had to put up with them squabbling like the way they were right now, she was definitely going to throttle them.

She opened her mouth and said loudly, hoping they hear her voice over their ridiculous arguing, "Look—Ginny—Draco—Harry—would you lot listen to me alre—"

"She's fine," a voice sounded up behind her.

Hermione swirled around and found Tom standing at the doorway. With a flick of the Elder Wand, his hair that was still slightly damp dried. It appeared that he had taken the time to shower while she was shouting at the door and trying to talk some sense into her friends.

"Are you sure?" Harry asked, a scowl stubbornly etched on his forehead.

Tom shot him a condescending look. "Potter, I checked already."

"But that spell—what if Death was lying to us? What if it wouldn't work? And you just used it on her? What if—what if—"

Hermione's eyes lit up upon hearing that. It appeared that the spell that Tom had used on her previously was just to check if she was truly back from the dead, or something similar to that.

"She's not dead now, is she?" Tom questioned as he sat down in one of the chairs, crossing his legs at the ankles.

"But what if it didn't work? What if—"

Tom sighed out of exasperation. "Potter, Hermione's not the first person to have returned from the dead. I've checked before using that spell on her."

"Oh," Harry said, relief finally appearing on his face.

"Thanks for pretending I'm not here while you talk about me," Hermione said sarcastically before she fixed Tom with a stare through narrowed eyes. "And thanks for informing me ahead of time what that spell was."

"The pleasures all mine, dear," Tom replied, giving her a bright smile.

She gritted her teeth, contemplating whether she should just attempt to pummel him to death on the spot, but her train of thought was broken by a muffled snort. She whipped her head around and glared at the perpetrator—a certain annoying Slytherin that she shouldn't have bothered saving and caring for on multiple occasions.

Draco held up his hand in defeat, though he was still having a hard time holding back his laughter at her expense. She was pretty sure that he was imagining her reaction after Tom had used that spell on her.

Harry, on the other hand, had a frustrated look on his face, as if he didn't know what to say.

"As …  _ **entertaining**_  as this little chat had been, I'll need to take my leave on you before certain Death Eaters start burning down the castle," Tom said, getting up from the chair.

Without bothering to look at them again, he swept past Hermione and the other three time travelers.

"We're not finished talking yet, Riddle," Hermione called, following after him.

However, he didn't answer her. When he reached the door, he turned around and glanced at Harry, Ginny, and Draco in turn, completely ignoring Hermione, who was standing right in front of him.

"Watch her, and I sincerely hope that you remember our little Unbreakable Vow," he said with a sickeningly sweet smile on his face.

With an annoying smirk on his face, he finally glanced at Hermione before pulling the door open and exiting the room.

Hermione didn't bother following him anymore, a contemplative look on her face. Her annoyance with him had not subsided in the least. Definitely not. However, she knew that arguing with him right now wouldn't be productive at all. She still had other things that she needed to attend to.

And now, while he believed that she would try her best to get the Elder Wand from him, was the best moment for her to action without worrying that he might try to stop her in some way or another.

~-0-~

_**Eight hours later.** _

A crack resounded through the hallway. The people congregated there immediately extended their wands. However, their spells disintegrated before they reached their intended target. Frantic yells in German soon rent the air when the guards recognized one of the two wizards who had Apparated into Nurmengard.

"Silence," Tom commanded in German.

Though his voice was soft, it strangely carried to every corner of the hallway. The guards didn't hesitate in following his order; the furious expression on his face foretold many hours of torture, and nobody was stupid enough to want to catch his attention at this moment.

"What happened?" Tom asked, his voice calm despite the anger flowing off him in waves.

He already had a general idea about what had happened; he simply wanted a confirmation now. Once Abraxas Malfoy mentioned that Hermione had requested to use Malfoy Manor's Floo network, Tom immediately knew why. Abraxas had told, or rather, boasted to him years ago—and he was pretty sure Draco Malfoy would've shared the same knowledge with Hermione—that because the Malfoys had vacation homes in different countries, they had a fireplace that was specifically used to Floo to those properties when needed. Many of his Death Eaters who weren't as talented in Apparition had used this method to travel to Germany a few weeks ago, too.

One of the braver guards hesitantly spoke up, "A witch broke in here. We didn't even know how she came in. It was as if she were under the Disillusionment Charm, but that shouldn't have been possible—there are wards here that reverse those kind of spells. But she just appeared out of nowhere. By the time we were alerted, she'd already opened one of the prisons and she somehow disappeared into thin air with the prisoner."

Tom narrowed his eyes and sucked in a deep breath as his hand tightened around the Elder Wand and his indignation went up another notch. He didn't need to ask to know who the witch was, and he knew exactly who she had saved—Nicholas Lockhart-Lovegood. It was hard to decide which one of them he should place under torturing spells first, but he soon came to conclusion that the answer was quite obvious.

And this time, he was going to make sure that the Heir of Ravenclaw would disappear from the face of the planet. Permanently.

Augustus Rookwood stood beside the Dark Lord, choosing to remain silent. Though he had no idea what was going through the Dark Lord's mind right now, he knew one thing for sure:

Abraxas Malfoy was definitely in deep trouble.

~-0-~

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, folks. Just the epilogue after this chapter. I hope you've enjoyed this chapter as much as the previous chapters. The epilogue should be up in a couple of days, maybe just in time to be a Christmas present, but I'm not making any promises.


	62. Epilogue

**Epilogue**

_Fifteen years later._

The early sunlight shone down onto the cobblestone road, marking the beginning of a new day. A couple of storekeepers hurriedly opened the doors to the stores they worked in, waiting for their first customers to show up, while others lethargically moved about, sighing and muttering half-hearted complaints about how early it was.

Though the rest of the world was at war, Diagon Alley remained unchanged—or at least, the amount of shoppers remained unchanged.

One noticeable change, however, was the decrease in numbers of so-called psychics and fortune-tellers roaming the streets or setting up stands. What had been in fashion in 1945 no longer caused the hype that it did in the past. Of course, there were still those who believed in this wooly branch of magic, including the Dark Lord himself. But of course, that was one of the many secrets he wanted to remain unknown to the general public, so despite his strong belief in Divinations, he hadn't been exactly keen on maintaining the popularity of it.

"Are you sure this is going to work?"

The question came from one of the two hooded figures standing a small distance into Knockturn Alley. Passersby didn't bother sparing them a second glance, since it was normal for folks roving Knockturn Alley to dress up the way these two people were.

"Abraxas told me she's going to be here today. If he gave me false information … well, he'd better hide as far as he can away from me," the second hooded figure answered.

The first person—Ginny Weasley—cocked her head to one side. "I thought he was in the Netherlands."

The second person—Hermione Granger—snorted. "Him? Risking his head again? I was surprised when Tom told me he'd joined in the battle at Sweden."

"Well, I doubt he could talk himself out of that. There were nobody left in his family to 'die.'"

"How did he talk himself out of this one then?" Hermione said, furrowing her eyebrows.

"He said he still had injuries from the battle at Sweden," Ginny answered nonchalantly. "Not surprising, since he did get his arse kicked around a lot there and then."

The two of them fell silent for a while. A group of children was ushered to quicken their footsteps by a guardian when she noticed two figures standing near the entrance to Knockturn Alley, as if she were afraid that these two beings would suddenly attack them. Then, Ginny spoke up again.

"I know you're still not completely happy about it, and perhaps it's a bit selfish of me, but I'm still glad that you came back to life, Hermione."

Hermione did not immediately answer. She didn't know _**how**_ to answer anymore, to be exact. She wished that she hadn't thrown that tantrum back when she first opened her eyes and saw them. If she had known that Harry and Ginny were going to be so Merlin-damned apologetic every single time they talked to her, she sure as hell would've just greeted them with a smile that would've made Gilderoy Lockhart proud.

Yes, she was beyond furious and upset when they'd brought her back to life, and yes, she seriously wished they hadn't done so. Nevertheless, she knew that what was done was done, and nothing could be done to reverse what had happened. Besides, it was Harry, and she couldn't stay mad at him for long anyway. She just wished that they would dropped the topic already.

"Ginny, can we please let this be the last time I'm saying this? Because I truly love you and Harry, but these apologies are …" She shook her head, not completely sure how to describe them. "I really, really, really don't blame you, or Harry, or Draco for this any longer, so can we just end it with that?"

"But—"

"Ginny, I've told you many times already. The three of you were presented with the chance to bring a friend back to life. Any person would've attempted it, even if they'd known that the person might not want to come back to life. You lot had no idea what I was thinking, so really, I don't blame the three of you anymore."

A smile finally appeared on Ginny's face. "Not Riddle then?"

Hermione rolled her eyes. "I'm pretty sure that if he had been able to open that box, he would've kept that Coin, just in case he needed it one day. We all know that if he had to choose between my life or his own skin, he'd choose the latter any day."

"Well, I'm not so sure about that. Attacking Hogwarts and taking down Dumbledore does seem to be quite a risky endeavor, wouldn't you think?" asked Ginny as she looked towards the growing number of people strolling down Diagon Alley.

"You've been reading too many romance novels, Ginny. He knows how well Harry duels, and he saw how his spells increased in strength when he casts simultaneously with Harry. Though there was a risk there, at the end of the day, he was doing it for himself," Hermione replied.

Ginny frowned upon hearing her words and seemed as if she were trying to come up with a rebuttal of some sort. Hermione had a hunch that the redhead was saying these things to make her feel better, but she would rather her friends to stop attempting to plant _**those**_ ideas into her mind.

"Ginny, look, I know you mean well, but I know what kind of man I've chosen. I've known since day one all the psychological and emotional problems that he has, and I've still chosen to be with him. I'm not about to be distressed over something like this," she said.

"But—" Ginny stopped in her words, seemingly unable to finish what she wanted to say.

Taking a deep sigh, Hermione didn't take her eyes off the busy streets and said, "There's no such thing as a perfect relationship, Ginny. Well, arguably, your relationship with Harry is probably the closest thing to it. I like being with Tom—when he's not that moody, murderous, selfish prick, that is—and to some extent, I do love him, but I'm not aiming to change him. It's impossible to change someone unless they _**want**_ to be changed, and Tom doesn't think he needs changing because he doesn't see anything wrong with himself. If anything, he thinks that _**we**_ are the ones who need changing.

"Is it hard to be with him? To some extent, yes, because his morals, or lack thereof, can be frustrating to me. But that's true with nearly every relationship in the world, and I might as well stay single if I believe that there's someone out there who's 'perfect' for me. And … I have to admit that as infuriating as the arguments are, it can be exhilarating, especially when I'm the one who comes out victorious." A small smirk appeared on her lips as she remembered those sweet moments of triumph. Casting a sly look at Ginny, she continued to say, "And if I'd wanted someone who's selfless to the point of saint-like, I would've jumped Harry all those years ago."

A snort left Ginny's lips. "Oye! Hands off my man."

Hermione held her hands up in mock defeat. "Never had them on him in the first place."

Soft chuckles were shared between them before Ginny recomposed herself, but before she could talk, the familiar figure of a woman with her face shrouded with a shawl appeared no more than ten feet away from where they were standing. Immediately, alertness appeared on the two witches' faces as they tracked the woman's footsteps.

"How are we going to approach her?" Ginny asked, a frown appearing on her face.

"She's probably stocking up on her supply of sherry again," Hermione replied, half amused and half sarcastically, "so we can probably 'ambush' her there."

"Oh, I don't know, Hermione. Perhaps she saw us coming with her 'inner eye' and would find some way to foil our brilliant plan," Ginny said airily.

"We shall see how accurate her 'inner eye' is then," Hermione replied with a wink.

With that said, the two of them fell silent and headed towards where they saw the "soothsayer" heading.

Indeed, the woman they were tracking down was none other than the "famous" Seer, Sybill Trelawney. The two of them had been planning this day for years, knowing from the start that it was far too dangerous for all of them if the prophecy was ever made. At first, Hermione had been hesitant about enrolling Ginny's help, worried that it might somehow trigger the Unbreakable Vow the redhead had made to Tom. However, Ginny pointed out that in doing this, they were actually preventing Tom's death, since the prophecy eventually led to his demise. Therefore, she would actually be working in accordance to what she had sworn—not allowing harm to be done to him when it was in her power to stop it.

Trelawney walked through the streets without so much as casting a second glance at people whom she passed by. It felt somewhat out of place for Hermione to see her former—or perhaps it should be "future"—Divinations professor somewhere that was not Hogwarts, especially walking down the streets of Diagon Alley. Not much had changed in regards to Trelawney's physical appearances—in Hermione's opinion, she still looked very much like a glittering beetle, though perhaps a younger one.

It didn't take too long for Trelawney to reach her destination. In any other circumstances, Hermione surely would've missed it. The store itself was so battered that she was surprised that its roof hadn't crashed down on its occupants yet. The walls seemed to shake with each breeze that was blown their way, and a large crack ran through the window that had "Madame Vivian's Readings" written across it in an elegant script.

Before Trelawney could enter the shop, however, a red streak of light had already hit her in the back.

"Okay, is it actually okay to Apparate with someone who's Stunned? She won't get Splinched along the way, would she?" Ginny whispered to Hermione as they quickly went over to where Trelawney had fallen over, all the while checking to make sure that no one was looking at them.

Thankfully, the Divinations store that Trelawney was about to enter was situated in a place where there weren't too many people, so nobody took notice of what had happened.

The two of them placed an arm around Trelawney and hoisted her up.

"With Side-Along Apparition, the other person doesn't necessarily know where the person doing the Apparating wants to go, so I'm positive it would work with someone who was Stunned," Hermione answer as they quickly made their way to one of the quieter alleys around the corner.

"So have you actually gotten in contact with the bloke in Hong Kong? He wouldn't decide tell on us, would he?" Ginny asked.

"I've told him we'll arrive there before noon. I haven't told him who we are, so we might want to change our looks a little," Hermione replied. "All he knows is that there's someone who's troubled by the inner eye and wants it 'locked up' so to speak."

"Are you sure he's genuine though? I mean, really, inner eyes? Locking and unlocking it? Is it even possible?" Ginny asked with her eyebrows furrowed.

Hermione shrugged. "I don't know, but sources told me that quite a few Muggle-borns who haven't been told that they were witches and wizards had gone to him when they had started to have visions of some sort, and supposedly, the visions stopped after he 'locked up' their inner eyes." She sighed and rolled her eyes. "As far as I'm concerned, if this stops her from going into that trance and giving that stupid prophecy, I'm good."

"Same here," Ginny said with a nod. "What about the clause for International Apparition? Wouldn't we need to get permission for that?"

"Got them from Lestrange last week. He knows that Tom's keen on maintaining peace with the Asian countries until he's finished with the European ones, so he wasn't too surprised when I asked him for the papers to Apparate to Hong Kong," Hermione replied.

"Are you sure he wouldn't somehow track us down and find out where we're going?" Ginny asked with a frown.

"Got that covered, too," Hermione said with a victorious grin. "I've arranged a meeting with one of the Hong Kong local leaders at noontime, so once we get Trelawney's inner eye sealed up, we'll have a lunch with him before we come back."

"So we're leaving Trelawney in Hong Kong?" Ginny asked, amused.

"Sounds like a plan to me," Hermione said carelessly.

After making sure for the last time that nobody was looking their way, the two witches Apparated away with the still unconscious Trelawney.

By the time Hermione and Ginny returned to England, it was already two in the afternoon. They first stopped at the house that Ginny and Harry had gotten at Hogsmeade, quite close to where Tom and Hermione were living now.

"Oh, look who's here again," Ginny said, after she hung up her traveling cloak.

Draco, who was eating crisps from a bowl, blinked at her with a haughty look on his face. "Don't worry, Weaselette. I'm not interested in your husband."

Ginny rolled her eyes. "Like I was ever worried about that. I'm more concerned about our food supply if there ever would be a world-ending apocalypse."

"I'm sure," Draco drawled.

"Don't you have food in your own house?" she asked as she stared at him through narrowed eyes.

"He eats here often?" Hermione questioned, walking up behind her.

"Every single meal," Ginny replied.

"Hermione, it's not as if I want to. Do you know how horrible it is to live by yourself?" Draco asked with a distraught face.

"Without house-elves, you mean?" asked Ginny sarcastically, earning a dirty look from him.

"Look, it's not my fault Gramps decided to throw me out," said Draco with a grimace.

The time travelers had come to realize that they never got old in the last fifteen years. It appeared that their ages seemed to have frozen in time. After this was brought to Tom's attention, he had suggested that they might not get any older until they reached the time when they were sent back into the past, and in this case, it would be the year 2000.

Abraxas had been especially disgruntled with this revelation, to the point that he booted his own grandson out of Malfoy Manor so that he would not be reminded of how much he would age in the future. Draco had, therefore, been forced to get his own house. He had decided to move in next door to Harry and Ginny, and it seemed like he had done so for certain purposes.

"I'm just surprised he didn't throw you out earlier," Harry joked as he walked out of the kitchen with a bowl of crisps of his own.

A bright smile appeared on Ginny's face as she approached her husband, threw her arms around his neck, and pecked him on his lips. The four of them then sat down and chatted until it was near sunset.

After declining Ginny's invitation to dinner, Hermione Apparated back to the home she shared with Tom—a house built on where it would've been the Shrieking Shack. She would've preferred something smaller, but Tom, of course, objected. After tricking her by letting her have a whole day down in the Chamber of Secrets to read books—he had claimed that it was a birthday gift—she'd come back only to find an, in her opinion, overly extravagant mansion for two people. She had been annoyed at first, but then decided that it was a bit ridiculous to argue with him about it. After all, if he ever held meetings with his followers, it wouldn't do well to have them in a cottage. However, she placed her foot down in matters regarding servants and got him to promise that he wouldn't allow unpaid labor in their home.

Or as Draco commonly joked, she'd "pestered" Riddle until he gave in to her.

Pushing open the front door, she took off her traveling cloak and hung it up in the closet. Tom was nowhere in sight, so she reckoned that he would be in his study, talking to one of his Death Eaters.

"My Lady, you're back."

She turned around and found Gerbasios Goyle hurrying up to her from the kitchen. Her eyebrows rose when she realized he must be emptying out their fridge again. The distant memory of drugging Gregory Goyle with cakes laced with Sleeping Draught came back to her, and a faint smile appeared on her face before she answered him.

"Hello to you, too, Gerbasios."

Though she still wasn't very comfortable with their insistence on calling her "my Lady," she had better things to do than to constantly correct them. Besides, the image of lording over Lucius constantly entertained Ginny and her—though she was friends with Draco, it didn't mean she necessarily had to like Lucius Malfoy.

"Um … you are going to see the Dark Lord?" Gerbasios asked, falling into the step next to her as she walked up the stairs.

"Yes," Hermione answered, finding his actions strange.

After all, it wasn't everyday that a Death Eater kept inquiring her about what she was going to do.

"Perhaps I should alert the Dark Lord first then," he said.

Before he could hurry ahead, however, Hermione grabbed him by his shoulder.

"That'll be all right, Gerbasios. I don't need my arrival to be announced," she told him.

"But—"

"Is there something going on in his study that I'm not supposed to know?" she demanded, raising her eyebrows at him and crossing her arms over her chest.

"No … of course not," he answered, though his eyes darted around.

The way he was acting made Hermione suspicious, and without another word, she quickly went up the stairs and went to Tom's study, only to find the door not completely shut. She was about to push open the door when a voice—a _**man's**_ voice—spoke from inside the room.

"I love you, Tom."

_What?_

Pushing the door open, she was about to give the speaker a piece of her mind when she realized that he was _**hugging**_ her man. The moment Tom saw Hermione enter the room, he'd somehow managed to pull himself out of the man's arms. However, she didn't want to row with him right now; there was another person who needed to be dealt with first.

Whipping out her wand, she cast the first curses that came to her mind.

The first two spells hit the man on the back, causing him to crash onto the floor in pain. However, he stomached the pain and pulled out his wand, casting a Shield Charm around himself.

That was when Hermione took notice of his features. Her mouth dropped open and she stared at him in shock.

" _ **Alphard**_?"

The wizard in question glared at her in a way that Hermione could only describe as hatred. It was an expression she had never seen on Alphard before that she couldn't help but be taken aback by it.

"What—Why—How—" she sputtered.

"Alphard, return to your post," Tom said on the side.

Alphard stared at him in disbelief. "My Lord—"

"Or are you insinuating that you no longer wish to follow my orders?" asked Tom, raising an eyebrow in surprise.

"What? No, I think both of you have some explaining to do," Hermione said with her eyes narrowed.

"I don't have anything to explain to you," replied Alphard coldly as he got to his feet.

His hand was gripped so tightly around his wand that Hermione was pretty sure that if Tom weren't in the room, he would've sent curses at her.

"You were the one who'd told him—" She jabbed her finger in Tom's direction. "—that we were from the future. You _**lied**_ to us, Alphard Black. You tricked us into believing you and this is how you repay our trust?" she asked disbelievingly. "I think you have a lot of things to explain to us." A revelation came to her at that moment, and her eyes widened. "You were the one who'd attacked Ginny all those years ago, weren't you?"

A nasty smirk twisted his features; he didn't seem to deem it important enough to answer Hermione, but his expression was enough of an affirmative for her.

"How **_could_** you?"

Alphard snorted derisively and sneered at her, "I think one sentence explains it all, Granger. I'm a Slytherin, _**dear**_."

Anger flared up in her; she couldn't believe that this was the man who'd helped Sirius run away from home. Could they have changed the timeline so much that even Alphard's personality was changed? But this couldn't be because Alphard's love for Tom had apparently started way before the four of them arrived in the past. Most likely, it was because of the changed circumstances that prevented Alphard from turning his back on Tom.

How was she going to explain this to Sirius? Well, she probably didn't have to any longer, since he was probably, most likely going to be on their side of the battle now, with no more Dumbledore around and the British wizarding world under Tom's control. However, this was still … shocking, to say the least.

While she digested all this information, Alphard finally left the room on Tom's orders. She was so absorbed with this revelation that she didn't even notice it when Alphard passed by her side, shooting her a murderous glare on his way out. The sound of the door slamming shut finally brought her out of her thoughts, and she rounded on Tom.

"You're leading him on," she accused, to which Tom raised an eyebrow.

"It's not called leading someone on if I never returned signals of any sort," he replied smoothly as he poured a glass of wine for himself.

She marched up to him and placed her hands on her waist. "But you didn't tell him off either. You don't even like men."

"He's a loyal Death Eater," he commented, taking a sip out of the glass.

"That's not a reason to lead someone on," she said through gritted teeth. "Now he's going to think that the only reason you're not with him is because I've snatched you away from him."

Amusement flashed over his eyes before he pulled on an innocent façade. "But you have, my dearest Hermione Granger. You have no idea how you've stolen my heart—"

"Something which you don't have," she added, rolling her eyes.

"—and made me realize that I only have eyes for you," he said dramatically.

"Oh please," she said. "Grow up, Riddle."

He didn't answer. Instead, his lips curved into a smile, and he pulled her into his arms. A single pale, long finger found a lock of her hair and twirled it around.

"Are you ever going to tell Alphard that you're not interested in him?" she questioned him, placing her hands on his chest.

"Are you ever going to tell Nicholas that you're not interested in him?" he asked with a sickeningly sweet smile.

A furious blush appeared on Hermione's cheeks. "That's different."

"How is it different, Hermione? After you went behind my back and saved him out of Nurmengard—"

"He was innocent," she said angrily. "It wasn't as if I could stand by and watch him get trapped in there for the rest of his life because of something you'd done."

"I'm sure it would've been devastating," he replied offhandedly. "You still never told him to go away."

"We only have academic discussions," she argued.

"Academic discussions, indeed. 'Hermione, thank you so much for the scarf you've knitted me. Do you mind making me a pair of gloves next?'" Tom mocked with an uncannily good imitation of Nicholas Lockhart-Lovegood.

She ogled at him in shock. "You were _**spying**_ on me?"

If that were the case, that would mean that he would find out about what happened to Trelawney soon. She seriously hoped that wasn't the case, especially when both Ginny and she had taken extra precautions to make sure that nobody had been following them.

"It's not called spying—"

"What do you mean 'it's not called spying'? I am pretty sure that I never felt you using Legilimency on me, Riddle, so you obviously had someone following me without my permission." Her heart uncontrollably started to beat faster though she managed to keep worry out of her expression.

"Did you think that I was going to allow him time to be alone with you? I've seen what was going through his mind when he looks at you—"

Hermione slightly relaxed when she heard his words. Apparently, he'd only sent people to tail her when she was meeting with Nicholas. Well, at least, she hoped that was the case.

"There's nothing between Nicholas and me," she cut into his words. "And don't you dare try to send people following me ever again. And don't try to divert my attention. Alphard, despite being a despicable, annoying, stupid, moronic, idiot git, deserves to know that you don't have any feelings towards him and would—"

He let out a derisive snort. "At least I've never knitted scarves for Alphard."

"If you don't tell him that you're not interested, he's going to think that he might have a chance with you one day because you keep him around," she pointed out.

"Like the way you're keeping dear Nicholas as a pet?" he asked mockingly.

"I do not keep him like a pet," she denied. "I've told you already, academic discussions."

"I'm sure there aren't other people you can have academic discussions with," Tom sneered.

"He cares about house-elves, the same way I do. Not many people see other creatures as equal beings like us—and you're proving my point right now," she growled when he snorted. "Most of you lot are downright cruel to those poor creatures, not seeing that they can and might have superior knowledge in comparison to us. Then you lot decide to lock them up or put them through slavery, denying their rightful places in nature, while—"

His lips crashed down on hers, successfully stopping her from what would have been a long rant. At first, she struggled against him, but in the end, her arms found their way around his neck, bringing him closer and deepening their kiss.

She knew this was his way to shut her up, but who was she to reject a breathtaking kiss from Tom Marvolo Riddle? It was only later that she realized that he had somewhat successfully diverted her attention from the topic on hand. However, she wasn't worried at all. She had plenty of opportunities in the future to bring up the topic again. After all, they had plenty of years ahead of them.

They had until the end of time.

~-0-~

_December 20, 1998, original timeline_

He watched from afar as Potter, his fiancée, and his Mudblood friend entered Borgin and Burkes after Draco Malfoy. He did not have to worry about the three of them seeing him; the snowstorm was picking up in momentum and covered his tracks and whereabouts quite meticulously.

A cruel smile graced his features as he recalled how he'd forced Lucius Malfoy to dispatch his son to pick up the Coin of Charon at Knockturn Alley. Of course, Lucius hardly knew that what he had done would cost him his son.

That was the least the pompous idiot could do to repay his debt to Lord Voldemort. Nobody betrayed him without consequences, and Lucius and Narcissa Malfoy were about to learn their lessons the hard way. They were unwise to believe that Lord Voldemort would die so easily. As if Horcruxes would be enough to preserve one's immortality!

No matter. Each person who had wronged him would learn what it meant to face the wrath of Lord Voldemort.

In regards to Potter … well, Lord Voldemort would make him wish that he were in the Malfoys' shoes.

He glided across the snow-covered street with hardly any effort and stood against the door, watching as the events unfold in front of him. A sneer appeared on his face as he watched Potter and Lucius's boy engage in a duel—if you could call it a duel.

A misplaced spell hit the first jar—one of the many jars that he had placed in Borgin and Burkes ahead of time. Borgin had been reluctant about purchasing the jars, thinking they had no value to them, but when the disguised Lord Voldemort had asked for nothing more than a few Knuts, the foolish owner of the shop jumped on the opportunity.

Little did Borgin know that the jars had _**immense**_ value to Lord Voldemort.

He watched as the liquids on the floor touched and mixed, swiftly changing colors as he hissed the chant that would send his nemesis back into the past. As a burst of white light filled the room, his lipless mouth curved into satisfied smile, knowing that he had succeeded.

His younger self would take care of Potter and his friends. In the meantime, he would build up his army again. This time there would be no one left to stand in his way.

A cold, merciless laughter filled the air as he Disapparated from Knockturn Alley, completely oblivious to the fact his actions would change everyone's, including his own, life and destiny.

Forever.

~-0-~

_Finis._

~-0-~

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: So this is it. "Somewhere in Time" is officially completed. Hope all of you enjoyed reading this as much as I've enjoyed writing this.
> 
> In regards to future writing projects, as many of you already know, I still have quite a few ongoing projects on my profile (such as "Prisms of Darkness", "A Tangle of Webs", and small outtakes for "Somewhere in Time") as well as the story that I'm co-writing with Nerys, "The Gold Puppet." So, hopefully, those of you who've enjoyed this crazy Tomione ride through time with me will enjoy other works I'll post in the future.
> 
> For the last time, under this thread, many thanks to those of you who've read, added to fave, and added to alert. Huge, huge thanks to the following my betas, Marauder's Wolf and Nerys, and to my reviewers!


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